Awakening

Chapter 20

//* A short chapter because I'm lazy. I'm sorry I haven't been updating; writing's been kinda hard for me lately. (thanks a lot, writer's block.) Hope you enjoy this! I'll try to update faster, though I have no idea if it's gonna happen or not ;-; Also Alex why do you make this hard for me ;-;

Dinner is unappetizing, but it's far better than the salt covering my insides that she used to make. Although we're sitting here together at the table, I still find it hard to make myself understand that this person is a part of my family.

Is she still my enemy? Maybe. There was the little part of me that hated her, despised her, could never forgive her. The part of me that wants her to suffer, will never trust her again, and will truly hate her forever without remorse wanted her to go away and stay away; I'd do better on my own, no?

Maybe.

I don't know anything anymore.

And suddenly I want to shout and cry again, tears welling up. I don't know anything anymore! If there was ever a part of me that thought I was even the smallest bit knowledgeable about anything was gone now, crushed underfoot.

Gone. It's all gone now.

Everything that I thought I knew was ripped apart, no longer a part of the logic I thought was part of the fundamental world.

Where was I living in, anyway? This was no longer anything like the earth I used to love so dearly. It seemed so much more like Hell now.

I pick up the last few strands of spaghetti and let them climb into my mouth, letting the flavor dissolve before I actually taste anything. Before me, I can eye Patricia slurping in the noodles happily and the sauce getting stuck on her lips. She lets each one in with joy, her eyes filled with glee.

"Wow, that was one of the best meals I've ever made," she remarks, her face bright. "I really liked that. What about you, Alex?"

Sure. Whatever. It's all the same to me, as long as it's food with the right amount of salt. "Yeah, it was good," I say, not wanting her to get off of her happy streak.

"Do you want to watch a movie with me?" she asks, happiness in her voice. "Your pick."

No. I really don't. "Sure," I say, coating my voice with sick sugar. "How about Divergent?"

"Sounds good to me!" she says, peppy as always.

We turn on the TV and cable the computer with the movie to the big screen. Over the movie, I don't watch but nap lazily with a few handfuls of buttery popcorn and a bottle of apple juice. She can make this time movie night, but that doesn't mean I'll go along with it. Music turns on and off, dialogue is everywhere, drama and flashing lights cover the screen. I hear bullets fired, screams, yet my eyes still don't open.

I don't want this. I don't need this. Let me walk away from this. Who was the idiot that got me into this?

That's right.

It was me.

Stupid, idiotic me.