(The New) Power of the 8 Elements: Part One

Chapter Thirty Three: Failure

*TRIGGER WARNING*
CONTAINS DEPICTIONS OF SELF-HARM
"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is courage to continue that counts." - Winston Churchill
1 YEAR AGO
THRAX

I was angry, unimaginably angry, but I was also sad, unimaginably sad. Everything had just turned out to be one complete and total failure. My plans had been ruined. I was publicly humiliated and to top it all of my hair was destroyed in the process and the color was leaking revealing the dark black underneath and some streaks of red. As I made the slow walk of shame back to my apartment with my family, people stared. They were probably wondering why a young teenager like myself looked so depressed and had such bad hair.

The bright red sky was fading into an orange as the sun began falling. I thought about the town that I nearly tried to destroy. What were its citizens thinking? "Thank goodness that virus is dead!" and "Oh, my! That hero cop just saved our lives!" Well, now I have to go back home to my family and tell them that I just failed, and that I'm out of a job, and I can't go back to school.

When I entered the house, it was entirely empty. Enza wasn't here. Good, because I didn't want her to see me looking like a walking mess. I looked like I just woken up from the worst hangover of my life. My makeup was dripping down my face. My hands had burns all over them. My hair was frizzy and looked ugly. The fabric of my coat was ruined. I entered my room and fell on my bed, letting out an exasperated and pained sigh.

I closed the door with my tendrils and cried to myself, pulling my pillow to my face. Somehow through my terrible headache, I managed to cry myself to sleep. When I woke up, I could hear voices in the background. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to find me. I jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom where I closed the door and pressed my back against it.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Wow, I looked even worse than I thought I did. I reached for the eyeliner sitting in the corner of the sink. I was a mistake. What would the virus community think? If I couldn't even commit one crime and carry it out successfully, I wouldn't be able to be hired for jobs or anything like that. I got a text from Fentanyl. I grabbed my phone which sat on my sink. He was calling me. I didn't want him to hear my voice. I didn't want anyone to hear my voice.

I opened the drawer on the sink and pulled out the boxcutter. I pulled the blade out as far as it possibly could go, and I stared at it. Did I really want to do this? I sighed, and I closed my eyes as I drew the blade on my wrists. I could feel the blood dripping down my arm. I repeated the word failure over and over in my mind.

"Thrax, I'm making spaghetti, want some?" Enza asked.

I opened my eyes and saw that I had made a long cut on my arm. When I heard her voice, I immediately put my hand over my wrist, but I only got blood on my hand. She knocked on the door, but as soon as she heard silence, she barged in, eyes wide with terror.

"No, baby..." She said, seeing my bleeding arm.

She opened another drawer and pulled out some gauze. I couldn't look at her. I was too embarrassed. I felt like a failure. I'm always a failure.

"...you can't keep hurting yourself like this."

"What's goin' on?" E asked.

"Nothing," Enza said, taking me out of the bathroom and into her room where she closed the door and locked it.

Enza fixed the cut and dressed it up.

"You know, I hate seeing you like this. What happened?"

"I failed..." I admitted. "I got caught by this stupid cop and this f*cking Medical."

She ran a hand through my hair.

"Oh, that...?" I sniffed, still unable to look her in the eye as I began crying. "Yeah, I fell into a pit of rubbing alcohol. I ruined my hair for good."

"You didn't ruin it for good. You just lost some of the color."

I turned away from her. I could see my reflection in the mirror. The purple was fading in the worst possible spots, and the natural black and red shade of my hair was beginning to show.

"Thrax, you can't keep c*tting yourself. I know your old family was tough on you, but we love you."

I sobbed, "I'm a failure! The entire viral community..."

She hugged me. "Honey, you're perfect. You may not be a criminal now, but you've got the rest of your life ahead of you. You can't throw it away now. I don't think of you any less."

"Enza, I can't find the f*cking forks!" Ebola screamed from the other room.

"Hold on!" Enza called. She kissed me on the cheek and then stood up and left to help E with the forks and whatever.

I fell back on Enza's bed and tried not to cry again. Enza's little pep talk didn't make me feel any better though. I still felt empty and pathetic. My phone began ringing again. I answered the call.

"OH, MY GOD! THERE YOU ARE!" Fentanyl screamed.

"Yep, I'm here," I said, laughing at his reaction.

"I've been calling you all day. My phone is dying. I'm so glad you answered though. I was getting really worried. So how's your day been?"

"Uh...it's been...a lot. I...got caught by the cops, and I fell into a pool of alcohol."

"Oh, sh*t! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, babe, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"My hair is just busted. But really I'm okay."

"You know I don't mean physically. You're as tough as nails."

"How am I...mentally?"

"Yeah."

I went silent.

"I mean, that's only if you want to talk about it. I don't want to force you to-"

"-nah, Fent. I'm just...I did it again."

"Aw, babe..."

"I'm sorry. I just haven't been feeling good about myself lately."

"Well, you know I love you."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry about it. Look, you come back home, and I am going to give you the most amazing kiss ever, and I'mma have chocolate and flowers—roses, and it'll just be us—you and me against the world."

I smiled and laughed a little. "Yeah, I'll probably be packing up soon."

"I can't wait to see you."

"Love you, Fentantyl."

"Love you, too, mi amor. See you soon."

The call ended, and I put my phone to my chest. I smiled. You know, maybe some people loved me.