Blink

Chapter 34: Echoes and Healing.

Iya bolted upright in bed, a loud scream escaping her lips. The familiar click of a gun being cocked next to her sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively raised her hands. "Sorry," she chuckled nervously, meeting her roommate Gabrielle's steely gaze. "Don't startle me like that, please," Gabrielle sighed, lowering her weapon. "I'm sorry too."

Iya had moved in with Gabrielle just a week ago, partly due to her late arrival for the academy's opening, leaving her without a roommate, and partly because Gabrielle's previous roommate had departed a month earlier. Despite their age difference, Gabrielle surprised Iya with her kindness and helpfulness, going against the stereotype of a typical senior. She not only showed Iya around the school but also shared numerous life hacks for navigating life at the RMA, many of which centered on securing extra food rations.
Despite their perfect roommate dynamic, there was one aspect that disrupted their harmony—the occasional screams and being held at gun point incidents, a byproduct of Gabrielle's time in the RMA. Despite this, Gabrielle respected Iya's privacy and didn't report the issue to the psychologist, as per Iya's request.

However, this adjustment in living arrangements held an unexpected advantage for Gabrielle: she found herself waking up earlier than usual, as Iya's nightmares consistently struck at 4 a.m. Yet, this newfound punctuality not only earned Gabrielle praise from her classmates but also from her instructors, bringing her a sense of fulfillment. With a smile, she leaped from her bunk bed, ready to start the day.

"I'm sorry again, about everything," Iya muttered, her voice tinged with remorse.

"It's okay, Iya," Gabrielle replied, waving her hand dismissively as she tidied her bed. She couldn't bring herself to confess to Iya that the reason she had been waking up so early lately was because of her. After all, she had worked diligently over the past week to portray herself as the perfect senior to Iya. Gabrielle had even altered her habits, refraining from indulging in her usual long baths and ensuring her belongings were kept tidier than usual.

Gabrielle swiftly donned her full uniform, hiding any signs of exhaustion or inconvenience caused by her altered routine, "bye Iya!" she yelled at Iya who was now in the bathroom, before dashing for class.

As she beheld the deserted expanse outside, a triumphant smile tugged at her lips. Once again, she had achieved her goal. Taking deliberate steps, she immersed herself in the serene beauty of the untouched morning, shielded from the hustle and bustle of human activity. Suddenly, a familiar noise broke the silence - the whirring of a leaf blower. Assuming it was her friend Mr. Hiddleton diligently at work, she cheerfully called out, "Good morning, Mr. Hiddleton!" Her greeting was met with silence, drowned out by the din of machinery. Undeterred, she made her way towards the source, intending to greet him properly. Yet, as she drew closer, her heart sank. It wasn't Mr. Hiddleton after all.

Mr. Hiddleton became Gabrielle's very good friend in her first few months at the RMA, put simply, he was as Gabrielle was to Iya, and of course, he taught Gabrielle all her meal ticket tricks. Unlike the ease Iya seemed to relish, Gabrielle's early months before she met Mr Hiddleton at the academy were marked by struggles. Frequently overwhelmed, she often found herself in tears, grappling with the demands of her training. One particularly crushing blow came after she received what her instructor deemed "the worst first-year result in history" on her shooting range test. With her confidence shattered, Gabrielle stumbled out of the classroom, her vision blurred by tears. She made her way to her beloved sanctuary at school - the Carrie tree, a place now abandoned by her peers. As she sat beneath its comforting branches, tears streamed down her cheeks, her face buried in her hands. Doubt crept into her mind as she questioned her place . "Perhaps I don't belong here after all," she sobbed. Her fingers brushed against the familiar shape of her MP3 player, a source of comfort in dark times, and memories.