Death of a King

Chapter 25

Because Dustin was tangled around my legs with no chance of escape, I fell asleep sitting up on Dustin's bed. It was uncomfortable to say the least, especially with my scratched back leaning against the headboard, but Dustin's steady breaths coaxed me to sleep like the sweetest of lullabies.

    And I didn't mind. Just being close to him was enough to comfort me.

    When my eyes opened the next morning, I found that I was no longer braced against the headboard. Instead, I was laying horizontally in the bed, tucked under the large comforter where Dustin had been located the night before. His bed was heavenly, so much softer than that damned couch I've been sleeping on since arriving at the compound.

    To my disappointment, Dustin wasn't laying next to me when I woke. The bed, and the room, were empty with only my aching presence to keep me company.

    It took almost twenty minutes to convince myself to get up, and then another twenty minutes to actually do so. When my feet touched the floor, instant chills swept through me and brought goosebumps to the surface. I wanted to curl back under the covers, bury myself deep inside their consuming embrace, and pretend that the last few days never happened. But I couldn't.

    Further persuasion was needed to force my feet to move towards the bathroom instead of catapulting me back into the bed. But as I entered the bathroom, eager to move forward instead of getting so ensnared in the past, I was stopped when my reflection came into view.

    I didn't recognize the girl staring back at me.

    Short hair framed a hollow face with skin that pulled just a little too tight over her bones, marked by a healing bruise that left her complexion pale and haunted. Her eyes sunk in, tormented by demons that cackled with sinful delight as they ripped her to shreds from the inside out. The girl I saw in that mirror looked tired, scared, and broken beyond repair. She looked weak.

    As though I weren't in control of my actions, I watched my hand lift to my hair, the oddest sensation sifting through me when my hands slipped off the tips of the short strands that hung motionless around my cheeks. I've had long hair for as long as I can remember, as a memorial to my mother. Her hair was my hair, and that kept her alive. But now ...

    My hair looked so different, it made me look so different. I didn't resemble my mother at all anymore, I looked like a stranger. Even to myself.

    And all I could think was, Toby will never recognize me now.

    I couldn't bare to look at the imposter any long and turned away from the mirror, exiting the bathroom and roaming into the hallway in search of Dustin. A week ago, I'd be confused why the very thought of him calmed my anxieties. Now, I understood. I knew why I wanted to be around him all the time and why the image in my mind of him smiling brought such tranquility to the stampede of emotions that stole the very breath from my lungs.

    Despite this all, I was nervous to see him. Though he wasn't awake to hear my confession last night, I remembered it with an alarming clarity. Were things between Dustin and I somehow different after yesterday, or was I expected to pretend like nothing happened because Dustin held only small part due to his temporary dependency on the painkillers?

    If that's the case, how am I supposed to ignore him? He hung onto every thought and floated through my mind at random, with a consistency that made my stomach tighten.

    At first, I didn't want to admit it to myself or anyone else for that matter because it meant I'd be disloyal to Jake and he deserved better than that. But it's inexplicably clear at this point that I may never leave the compound save for the few glorious motorcycle rides I hoped would grace my future. I couldn't expect Jake to never move on, that would be cruel on my behalf. And he most likely thought I was dead, rotting in a ditch somewhere.