Remains

Because of You / Kelly Clarkson

"I suppose I was just so overwhelmed with the entire thing, that it finally got to me," Isabelle said.

"You lasted a long time without it taking over you," Liam mused, "how did you hold on for so long?" 

Isabelle thought for a moment. "I don't really know. I really thought that I would have been a complete wreck throughout the entire event. In the end though, I guess I found the strength to stick it out."

Liam smiled knowingly. "That's exactly why I think you're a hero."

Isabelle's heart skipped a beat and the lump in her throat seemed to lessen in size. Could he be right? Am I beginning to believe him?

"Listen, you may not believe me," he continues, "but think about it. Really, think about it. You may think you're weak or struggling, but you survived an event where the odds of survival were next to none. You held yourself together in one of the toughest situations that I can think of. You were brave in a place where courage was absent. You can't get much more heroic than that."

"I could have saved someone," Isabelle mumbled, "but I didn't. Heroes are supposed to save people." 

Liam sighed. "Not necessarily. Sometimes being a hero is all about realizing the truth within yourself and believing in your ability. You did that, and that's what matters. Yes, more survivors would have been ideal, but there wasn't anything that you could do. Saving lives isn't all that there is to a hero." 

Isabelle had no response, nor argument. I still don't believe that I'm a hero. However, maybe he has a point. 

Isabelle exhaled loudly and rubbed her eyes, avoiding responding. 

"You alright? A bit tired?" Liam asked. 

"To say a bit tired would be an understatement," Isabelle said. 

"Not a lot of sleep last night, I assume?" 

"No," she replied, "in fact, I can't say I get a lot of sleep on any night. Sometimes it's insomnia, or sometimes it's avoidance of nightmares. Either way, I often function on very little sleep." 

"You dream about the terror attack frequently, then?" 

"Of course. I suppose it's not always dreams either. You can probably guess that it's on my mind almost all the time," Isabelle admitted. 

"If you don't mind, could you perhaps tell me a bit about what sort of things run through your head this far beyond the event?" Liam questioned. 

"Well," Isabelle mused, "it's mostly reliving the fear. Flashes and glimpses of the worst moments. Sometimes I get these voices in my head, telling me how I shouldn't have survived, how I wasn't worth enough to make it out. Other times, all I see is him. His wretched face, his bloodshot eyes, and that wild, insane look he had. I can't escape him. He's with me, even after his death. " 

"That's awful," Liam said. "I hate the fact that you endure this sort of thing every day." 

"Yeah," she murmured in response. "Me too." 

"Listen. I know that it feels like you can't escape the thoughts, and that sometimes you just can't find a way to think about anything else, but if you'd like, I could share my own personal process I go through to get myself out of that dark space." 

Isabelle nodded once. 

"Well," he started. "I usually start by closing my eyes, shutting off one of my senses. I then tell myself the things I need to hear, and repeat them until they drown out the toxic thoughts. Something I might say to myself could be 'I'm not going to let this get to me. This is what he wanted, and I cannot provide the reaction that he wished for. He aimed to create pain and suffering, and I will not allow myself to give in. Do not think about the tears that have been shed, but remember a time before. A time before heartache. A time before sadness. Hold on to the light, and the darkness can never fully take over.'" 

Isabelle was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I wish I had the power to tell myself that." 

Liam met her gaze. "A wise person once told me that a person's will is only as strong as they allow it to be." 

"That's beautiful. Who told you that?" Isabelle asked. 

"My father," Liam responded solemnly. "It used to be the last thing he'd say to my brother and I before we went to sleep. He believed that it would be useful in the future, and now I can see that he was right. I was meant to pass on the knowledge to you." 

Isabelle smiled softly. "Maybe I'm meant to pass on my knowledge to you too. My story will soon be out there, and maybe there's a reason for it."

Liam chuckled. "Maybe." 

"Speaking of which," Isabelle added. "I suppose we'd better continue."