War of Change | Book 3

20: The Sun Is Going Down

Art: Artist Not Found

As I knelt there in the sopping wet soil, I ever so slowly lost the feeling in my extremities. I could still distinguish that the brown grass between my fingers was damp and that my cheeks were sticky from the salty tears that had just been running down them. I could still perceive how heavy my hair was from the manufactured rain as it weighed my head down, and I could feel that my knees were soaked and dirty in the mud.

I could feel all of this with my touch, but none of it quite registered anymore. It was just there. It was just happening. I didn't care to do anything about it. There was no reason to do anything about it.

My arms started to ache, so I sat back into my knees, my head still hung forward.

Through the dark ropes of my hair, I could see my hands on the ground. Against the umber dirt, on top of russet skin, was brilliant scarlet red. The scarlet was runny and seeping into the grass but still bright. It was so...alive.

Alive...

A strange fire started in my chest. It grew hotter as I focused on it until it shot down to my palms. My eyes began to sting again. My vision blurred. A quivering whine split into the air, but I didn't recognize it as coming from my own mouth.

The muscles in my arms tightened. One thought entered my mind: Get it off. Get it off! "Get it off!"

My hands began to dig and scrub against the dirt, transferring the scarlet into the brown. My skin began to burn and itch against the twigs. I ignored it. I just wanted it off. I wanted the scarlet to go away. I didn't want the scarlet on my hands anymore.

A low buzz entered my ear, but I didn't recognize it. There was pressure on my shoulders and torso, but I pulled against it and kept scrubbing. "Get it off. Get it off!"

My sight was torn away from the ground and forced to look at more russet skin, interrupted by two blue circles and something moving. The moving thing was making the buzzing noise. It was a face in front of me.

Is this a face?

Who is this?

What do they want?

I need to get the scarlet off. I forced my sight away from the face's grip and looked back at my hands. There was less scarlet. The russet was now becoming brown.

"Kida," a word broke through the buzz.

Sudden alertness burst through me. I snapped my head up towards the sound. It was the face. It was my brother. This realization calmed me down once more. My head drooped, but I could recognize words in the buzzing as it started again. "Come on," it urged. "We'll get you cleaned up."

I opened my mouth, but my lips were numb, and my tongue felt glued to the bottom of my mouth. I think I nodded. I'm not sure.