“We’re very, very sorry?—”
I slam my hands down on my desk, pulling myselfto my feet. “Amezarak, call the rest of the Secretarii to the Nerve Center for an emergency meeting.”
He nods, pausing just long enough to shoot a glare at the two archangels before he stalks out of the room.
“And as for you two heathens: If you value your comfortable life together here, you will not be leaving for the indefinite future. You’re now reassigned to reconstruction duty. Full day shifts, six days a week. If Semyaza’s rats haven’t already given away our release, then we can thank your sharedcarelessnessfor the start of Armageddon.”
7
KAE
Grieving for the material things I’m leaving behind is inevitable when there’s a chance I’ll never see them again.
I try to distill my entire life into two fully stuffed suitcases, forgoing nearly every sentimental, functionless item I own. Though it pains me, I throw away the shredded gloves I had on during my first motorcycle accident, which I kept as a keepsake to remember how I got the large scar on my palm. The saddle from my first horse is now sitting in a pile of donations at Goodwill, along with an abundance of clothes I have no use for. I would give away my entire book and video game collection, too, if it wouldn’t have made me seem too suspicious.
My organized chaos, with all the things that make me feel so comfortable at home, is effectively dead to me. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Every single moment I have to myself is poisoned by my self-destructive, raging mind.
In the afternoon, as I drive to the hospital to return my badge:If there’s a prophecy that must come true, does that mean the future is predetermined? Do I only have the illusion of choice?
When a lull falls over the kitchen table during my last dinner at home:Is God real and wholly good? If he is, then why does he allow evil to exist?
Even doing something as simple as brushing my teeth:What is Dusk keeping from me? What else is out there?
It’s all so incredibly loud.
Still, I know my anxiety isn’t entirely misplaced. My descent into the Abyss might be ahead of schedule, but the rest of the world will soonhave its own shade of darkness. Any reasonable person would have trouble stomaching that as an inevitable truth.
Now, like a blurry dream, I enter the moment I’ve been dreading—my final goodbyes. I’m expecting it’ll be quick and painful, like a good vomit. I’ll let it all out, cry my tears, and then, hopefully, I can start to feel better.
My dad and Jackie walk me into the airport, each trying to be strong in their own way. My dad is overly helpful, offering to roll my suitcases for me while he averts his glossy eyes from my attention. Jackie, on the other hand, is all business, battering me with safety tips I won’t need where I’m going.
The lie weighs heavier and heavier in my chest with each passing moment, each half-truth I feed them. They truly believe I’m going to be traveling across Africa, where I’ll be working with the Peace Corps as a medical assistant in underserved communities. By the time we reach the elevator where we must part ways, my heart feels like it’s made of lead.
We stop in a quiet suddenness, and I turn around to face them both. Upon seeing Jackie’s stoic face glistening with shed tears, my determination to be strong shatters. My face burns, my throat closing with a choking sob.
My dad quickly wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. The cedar musk of his favorite cologne envelops me, reminding me of home. “It’s going to be okay, my brave little girl. I’m so, so proud of you.”
I suck in a shuddering breath. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Please be safe for me, okay?” He strokes a hand over the back of my head, letting my tears fall into his shirt. “I know you always want to help people, but you have to take care of yourself first. Don’t forget that. You put your oxygen mask on before helping the other passengers, yeah?”
“Yeah. Of course.” We hold still for a long, short moment. Ihatethat I can’t tell him everything. As empathetic for the world as he is, he’ll always be my parent first. There’s no version of reality that he’d willingly let me sacrifice myself like this.
When I eventually pull away, I can barely make it through basic sentences. “Try not to miss me too much. I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just like college, but… a little farther away.”
He holds me by the shoulders, looking me in the eyes one last time with more love than I deserve in this moment. I can faintly see the track of a tear that fell down his face, likely getting caught in his greying mustache. “I wish your mother could see what a strong young woman you’ve become.”
My face tightens, my eyes stinging. Images of my mom in her hospital bed flash through my mind, and I close my eyes in an effort to shut them out. As much as I wish she were still here, I can’t let myself dwell on it. It washerdeath that built my resilience. My perseverance is how I honor her. I have to remember that.
I struggle to swallow the knot in my throat. “I’m incredibly fortunate to have you two in my life.”
Reluctantly, I turn towards Jackie, my broken heart bleeding out all over again.
“You’d better write to me every chance you get, okay?” She crushes me in the strongest hug she can muster, choking the air out of me. “Don’t you dare forget about me.”
The plea in her voice pulls another sob from me against my will. My voice cracks as I whisper back, “I could never forget about you, Jackie. You’re my best friend, and you always will be.Always.”
