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I can’t hear anything, I can’t even really see anything. It’s terrifying. Time passes slowly, or maybe it passes fast, I genuinely don’t know.
I’ve got no concept of time, not when I’m here alone and there’s nothing to occupy my mind.
My eyes squeeze closed, and I practice my breathing to try and remain calm.
You’re safe, Zoe, nobody can get to you.
But then the darkness disappears. I see specs of colour rushing towards me before I’m now somewhere else.
What is happening?
I try to look around, but my surroundings are kind of blurry and it’s hard to latch onto any of the details, and with the limited light, it makes it even harder to see what’s going on.
“They were attacked!” a man roars.
“Not by us, Anomus,” a second, familiar man replies. He sounds calm, sure of what he’s saying, despite the raging from the man in front of him.
“It was by us!” he shouts again. He slams his fist into a wall, rubble falling off of it. He turns around, his shoulders heaving, as he glares. “They might no longer be ours, but they once were. This is my fault.”
“Calm down,” Necos commands, using a no-nonsense tone. “She’s safe. Ciar and Mael defended them, and they killed the intruders. They’re dead, Ano. Trust in her fated.”
“I wish I could have done that.” I don’t know who said those words first.
I’m pulled out of the vision when Ciar touches me, and my eyes fly open in shock. My head swims before I settle, and I smile at him hesitantly. He’s got a worried expression on his face, his lips grimacing instead of smiling.
He’s wearing a different t-shirt than he was before the attack, and his hair is messy. Wet, maybe, but not from a shower.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently. His thumb rubs across my cheek, and I lean into his touch without thinking about it. “Zoe?”
I nod, blinking away that weirdness and give him another small smile. “What happened? Where is Mael? Is everything okay?”
“He’s okay,” Ciar soothes, and my panic levels out. I’d like to say it disappears, but that so isn’t true, but it’s not so overwhelming anymore “He’s gone to let Mr Downey know what’s happened.”
“What about the… the bodies?”
“Gone,” he says, and I don’t ask anything else. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I whisper. His eyes fall shut for a brief moment, and when they reopen, his dark brown eyes are filled with sorrow. “Ciar?”
Mael bursts into the room, holding a red pillow with a glare on his face. “They fucking ruined my pillow.”
Ciar and I turn to him, identical expressions of disbelief on our faces, I think, and he frowns.
“What?” Looking between us both, he narrows his eyes. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” Ciar says.
“Um, yes,” I say at the same time.
“I’ll be in the living room,” he says, somehow making that sound slightly menacing. “And once you’re done doing… whatever you’re doing, you come talk about how you’re going to make reparations for my pillow.”
“It’s a fucking pillow,” Ciar says, rolling his eyes.
“The item is not the point. It’s the meaning behind it.”
Mael walks out without a backward look.
I get a weird feeling in my tummy. Is it anxiety? Guilt?
