Wilted

Chapter 5: Leaving

Chapter 5

The second Jarmil heard that the dead body was Macey's friend he started all out crying. Why did it have to happen again!? Why do I keep... losing everyone?

Although he had no strong connection to the girl, it still affected him deeply.

"Get him up."

He was yanked backward, then up to his feet, even though he was completely limp, still lost in his pathetic thoughts. They made him face the one who informed him that it was Macey's friend lying on the table's bloodied surface.

"Do you know who killed him and where?" He asked, staring into Jarmil's half-closed eyes. After seeing a head slightly shake of his head the man asked yet another thing. "When was the last time you saw her?"

Jarmil shrugged and brought his gaze to the ground, tears leaking down his cheeks and spattering along its hard surface. Sobs wracked his body.

Why were they asking me this stuff? I don't know what happened, when it happened, or where it happened...

He sighed, gazing past Jarmil toward Macey's friend's shredded body. He barely seemed fazed by the gruesome sight. "They were right; he doesn't remember..." he muttered to himself softly before speaking up. "She died in the field behind the Orphanage; it was a slow death. You could probably hear her screams from a mile away," he paused for a couple seconds before continuing. "Jarmil. You were the one who killed him..." He trailed off and stared into Jarmil's ever widening eyes.

"What...?" The word escaped his lips somehow, though it sounded more like a croak than anything else, scratchy like sandpaper. The fact that he had said something startled him; I hadn't said anything for over a year. So what made my voice come back...? Shaking his head, he told himself that it wasn't very important.

...

There was silence in the room as he tried to gather himself together. I killed him? How...? I don't remember anything other than me falling out of the tree, the warnings, and then my vision turning all red. He shook his head slowly, trying to clear his throbbing head and shake off the tears.

That can't be right, that girl isn't dead. This is just another one of those torturous dreams. Nothing more... Nothing else... Nothing- Tears started leaking from his wide eyes once more, streaming down his face in salted rivers. Closing his eyes he started to cry silently, struggling against every sob.

"Take him back to the room. After a few days we're gonna take him with us. We don't want anything like this to happen again," he instructed.

Footsteps sounded afterward, and then Jarmil felt his limp form being dragged out of the room that had the girl laying within it.

They threw him onto the mat, then left, shutting the door behind them, not even trying to be quiet in the process.

Afterward he curled up into a little ball on the mat's hard surface, feeling bad for himself.

Regretting the fact that he had killed someone.

Hatinghis heart for not caring about the girl's death.

Disliking my mind for letting my heart not care, and letting the tears be only toward himself.

Torturing himself, because it was most likely him who had killed his family.

Dying inside for not even believing the previous thoughts.

...

What kind of monster am I?

XXX

Gareth sat in the Cafeteria, having gathered everyone there for a period of silence after that event. It has been nearly a week since the girl's death had happened, but even still, every day he would make the orphans come there for an hour of silence. Macey, who had tried to help the girl, was placed into a comatose state. By Jarmil.

A huge, gaping gash down his chest had knocked him under.

There was a knock at his table.

"We need to ask you a few questions; can you come with us." The way she had said the last part was not in the form of a question. It was an order.

By the time Gareth looked up, she and two others were already exiting the Cafeteria. Sighing, he stood up slowly and followed after them, taking his time, glancing at the kids who lived there. All of them had their heads down on the hard surface of the tables; no one said a word, though he doubt that any of them didn't care. They are all each other's families, since they no longer have any blood relatives that were willing to take care of them.

Turning his gaze away from them, he proceeded down the aisle.

They led him out of the Orphanage, to the field out in the back of the building. They stepped under a tree, and then turned to face him. Their faces were completely blank of all expressions, despite the fact that this was the tree the girl had passed under. You could tell by the russet stains which dotted the blades of grass in thick patches.

"Does he have any close friends or relatives?" One of them asked, stepping in front of the other two.

"Jarmil?"

"Yes, Jarmil," she replied flatly.

Gareth sighed; do they think that he hasn't been hurt enough? He's already scarred mentally and physically… "Yes, Renata Simons and Macey Scarlett Why?"

"You don't need to know," she said, in the same tone as her before words. Dipping her head slightly she added, "Thanks," then walked away, the other two following her.

Gareth just stared at them as they left the blood stained grassy area.

XXX

Despite the fact that it was a nice day out, no clouds in the sky or anything, Jarmil wasn't feeling happy or excited—or anything at all really. Nothing went through his mind as he was dragged away, behind two others.

A dog on a leash.

He just let them pull him; bring him away from everything related to his life.

But he didn't care; might as well let them control his stupid, heartless body.

They can take him anywhere, make him say anything, and he still wouldn't care.

At least no more deaths would happen because of him. He doesn't like killing, it just ends up hurting him in the end.

He stared down at a tied wrist, to avoid staring at the dark green van he was about to be put in. He didn't wanting to see their gaze.

They told him yesterday that, because he was 'friends' with them, they would be accompanying him as he was taken somewhere located on that planet. Just knowing they were there should have made him feel guilty, because if it weren't for him, they wouldn't be here. But it didn't, it made Jarmil feel better—if he could feel at all...

"Get in."

Jarmil heard the van door slide open with much force, showing their dislike for the monster that stood before them. His feet moved on their own into the van, and then he dropped onto the floor, since the seats had been put down. He could feel their presences in the back of the van; feel their eyes burrowing themselves into his back as he sat with his vision diverted in front of him, staring out the windshield. A somewhat happy feeling fluttered inside him.

After a few minutes of silence he heard the van's engine roar to life as the driver was given instructions to start the vehicle. Someone clambered into shotgun, then the van went forward, slowly at first, then it sped up and raced down the road to who knows where.