Gary Jules - Mad World

The drive back to the manor was completely silent. It was hours before Nevaeh even acknowledged me, almost a day before she spoke to me in a full sentence. I knew she wasn't angry with me, but that didn't stop her from acting like I was somehow the enemy. She was a bitch like that. We only stayed at our haunted home long enough to grab what we needed and close it up, warding it against trespassers. It was hard to make myself shield the place against James, against Jordan, but they were no longer welcome, only Nevaeh and I were, only we could call the imposing building home.

That thought alone was daunting. We were alone. We didn't have anyone to turn to because we had never needed anyone before. The realization that we were no longer powerful, but instead weak and unprotected, vulnerable to all the things I had previously never feared was something I wasn't prepared for. I packed up my things numbly, wondering what we were supposed to do now, where we would go, how we would survive.

I watched the fog and frost thaw to a sickly green before brightening outside my train window. The colors mixed together as the world hurtled by. Nevaeh was staring out the window stonily across the cabin from me, and if it weren't for her eyes occasionally tracking some marker on the countryside, she might have looked dead. I wished she would talk to me, but it was like she had gone mute. And so I stared out my little window, too.

The new growth I saw as we traveled south barely lifted my mood, nothing could. The only thing that held me together was necessity. I needed to keep breathing, to keep moving and dragging my thoughts along with my body. If my life had taught me one thing, it was that you always had to persevere, no matter what happened, you could never lie down and take it, never let the world bury you. Only twenty-four hours earlier I had been preparing for our fight with the hunters, and now I was preparing for a new life entirely, wishing I could erase the memories of the last eight years, but that wouldn't defeat me, that wouldn't break me. I would never give up. At least that's what I kept telling myself, kept repeating in my mind.

When I pulled my eyes from the bleeding colors outside, Nevaeh was watching me with her green eyes narrowed.

"You're the fucking leader now. I don't want it."

Her voice was acid, like poison, like her silence had built up malice on her tongue. I'd already known I would be the leader. I wouldn't have let Nevaeh take the position even if she had wanted to, but I was glad I wouldn't need to fight that battle with her. I merely nodded, staring out the window again at the farms whizzing by.

Too many seasons with James had made me hate winter like he did, but even seeing the sunshine outside, even knowing the temperatures were steadily climbing as our train continued along to its destination, I still felt cold inside, cold and hollow. We had at least thirteen hours to go, and we had already been on the train for close to nine, but even thousands of miles, new scenery, new climate, didn't seem far enough away from the city and the memories.

I felt sick still, as if the world was warning me of something to come, though I couldn't think of anything worse than my current situation. I wanted to smoke, but the signage was clear and I was too tired to try and find a designated area. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't seem to sleep, instead, I stared out my window and tried to turn off my mind.

» ✦ «

My life was fucked. Everything, everyone, all my plans, all the prestige I had had with James, all the power, pulled out from under me like a fucking trick tablecloth. I couldn't believe what a despicable, disgusting, disgraceful thing he was. He had tricked me worst of all. I had actually wanted him. Wanted a Half, a beast, a demon. What a sick, cruel, disgusting joke. I couldn't believe what he had done to me. He had done it on purpose.

Maybe this was the only way he could get some kind of pleasure out of life, he had to build elaborate plans, trick everyone for years, just so he could smash it all out from under them for his own little, twisted amusement. He had made me want him, I was sure of it, made me want him just so I'd feel slimy once I found out what he really was. Like kissing someone with the lights off and then seeing their ugly face and yellow teeth when they flipped the switch. He probably got a kick out of charming people like me, drawing people to him when he knew no one would want him if they knew what he was. What a disgusting trick.

I hated him so much I wished I could plunge one of his knives into his chest and twist it until I saw the damned light leave his blackened damned eyes. I hoped Jordan had killed him, but I knew she hadn't, she was too weak, and she was just as disgusting as him anyway. She had probably known all along, he had probably told her in one of their secret little conversations. I was sure of it. How smug she always was, how fake she had always been, pretending to be sweet and even and calm, pretending to hold herself back like some kind of fucking saint, how she had stolen James when all along she was probably in some disgusting deal with him, just to dig at me more.

She had known what she was, I was sure her little lover had told her and now they were off somewhere making more of their kind, disgusting little Half babies that would grow up to be just as vile as their disgusting parents. I fucking hated them all. They could rot in Hell for all I cared. None of our fake family had ever been real and I hated them all the more because of it. I should have killed the bitch during our first training, and I should have killed my dear leader the moment that man had told us what he was.

I tried to not think about the worst part, that they had done this to Kael too, to the kindest, densest, weakest of all. His heart was too big and his brain too small to take another blow. After losing Ambriel, this was just cruel. I bet James had killed her, I bet he did it because he couldn't stand seeing someone in love, seeing someone happy. I had never questioned his story of their ambush, why would I? But now, everything he had ever done, every word he had ever uttered was up for scrutiny. He was a liar and a demon who deserved the eternity he would have in Hell. I just hoped he got there soon. I hoped he was already there. I hoped his father had found him and his little bitch and tortured and killed them both in front of the other slowly so they could all be down in Hell together.

I wished I had killed them when I had the chance, but Kael probably wouldn't let me go back to the city now, and he was the leader, so I did what he said.

» ✦ «

I was the leader now. Hearing it said out loud was something of a bucket of ice water, a slap to the face. I had to be strong, to be smart. I couldn't wallow in pity or anger and allow myself to be dulled by the pain of being betrayed by my closest friend, my brother. I had to keep myself together to keep Nev and myself safe. Everything was dangerous now and she had made it painfully apparent that she didn't plan on acting out any helpful role on her own beyond financial backing. So it would all fall to me.

That was how I would keep myself together. Leading a Clan, even one of just two, was easily enough to think about, enough to worry about. It could consume every waking moment if I let it, and I certainly planned on letting it. The more time I spent thinking of plans and protections and our future, the less time I'd have to think about our past and how it was trying to eat me alive. In a way I suppose I was grateful for my responsibility, since even just on the train ride my thoughts always seemed to wander to the same resting place when I let them off their leash. I almost laughed at my choice of words. If Jordan could hear my thoughts she'd make a puppy joke.

Even if I didn't take my new responsibility so seriously, even if I simply continued acting as I had before everything went to shit, I assumed Nevaeh would still keep me busy enough. She was a burden on a good day, but in her current state she was a petulant brat, spoiled and sour, prone to tantrums and, apparently, the silent treatment. I tried not to blame her too much, I would have my job, my duties to focus on, to pour myself into, the role of leader to fill. Nevaeh would have nothing, nothing but betrayal and anger and hurt to fall into, to lose herself in, again. So I tried to be as forgiving as I could, but she was still a brat, a brat who hardly spoke for the rest of our long trip.

I almost preferred sitting in silence with her, staring out the window, watching warmth blossom outside. I could almost pretend nothing had changed, that she was just in a bad mood as usual, that James and Jordan were in the restroom, or maybe just walking around the train, checking for exits, stretching their legs.

But when Nevaeh opened her mouth, it was impossible to keep that fantasy alive. Every word from her ripped down my daydream and reminded me that we were alone, we were betrayed, and our entire lives together had been built around a lie, a lie who was back in the city we were hurtling away from, probably growing darker and darker with each mile we left behind. I wished she would go back to the muteness of the previous twenty-four hours. I preferred that to her unconstructive words.

I planned on putting whatever leftover energy I had into ignoring my feelings, ignoring the memory of the cemetery and that entire god-awful night. Then maybe I wouldn't have to work through any of them, make any decisions about how I should feel. I didn't want to have to come to terms with the clear contradiction in my mind; knowing that there were no good Halflings, that there never had been and never would be, never could be. That a good Half was a contradiction even just in theory, and yet not being able to think of James and Jordan as the monsters they were. It made my head hurt when I even thought of it briefly, so I didn't think of it. I didn't want to. Instead, I stared out the window.

We were in a populated area now, and I saw a bar fly by. I wished I was in it, wished I was sitting on a worn wooden bench, my back leaned against a wall with a pitcher in my hand and a massive veggie burger on my plate, or a Portobello cap, I loved mushrooms. There'd probably be others there, it was about that time in the evening, bar time, drinking time.

Some tough guy would probably try and start shit with me from a comment on how I dress, or something crude about Nevaeh. I'd stand and he'd have a flash of doubt in his eyes, but he'd know others were watching. He'd try some for-show, lame punch, and I'd break his wrist. Maybe he'd have a gun, or maybe one of his friends would. They'd pull it out and I'd know I could easily stop them, but maybe I wouldn't, maybe I'd just pretend to try and stop them. Maybe I'd pray for their aim and just welcome the sleep... I shook the thought from my mind, making my hair fly in my face. That kind of daydream wasn't productive in the least. I stared out my window again, trying not to think of anything but a plan for Nev and my future.

Finally, the train halted, and finally I could breathe in fresh air, feel the waning sun on my skin, and walk without the ground rushing by beneath me. I still felt sick, but I had known my nausea wasn't motion-related to begin with, I just hoped it was. Nevaeh sulked until I said she could pick the hotel for our new city and of course it ended up being one so glitzy I felt like an asshole just standing in its lobby. But it was no use arguing with her. She was the one paying, or at least making the front desk think she'd paid, I didn't know which.

I found myself sitting in the lobby as I waited for her to arrange some kind of long-term stay with the concierge, looking like a trashy homeless bloke in a chair that was clearly not meant for a man of my build. I scowled at every worker who hesitantly came up to me asking if I was lost. Once they saw who I was with they were much nicer, which I found funny. Apparently in the hospitality business you only got treated well if you treated others like shit, and Nevaeh was good at that.

She somehow managed to get us a room that looked like it was made for a rock star, yet still only had one bedroom, one massive bedroom, which was smart, and therefore surprising for her to have chosen. Sleeping in the same room was better for safety, but I had assumed she didn't care about that. I was glad I was wrong. I didn't even ask her how much it had cost. It didn't matter to her and she probably hadn't even paid. Her Gift was extremely handy at times.

I felt a sinking in my stomach as I sat on one of the beds that looked like it might rotate if the proper buttons on the bedside table were pressed, and dropped my bag. This was when the real mental game began, this was when I would have to try and keep my thoughts trained on the future, and ignore the past, ignore the hollow feeling that went from my stomach to my throat, like I had nothing in me, no heart, no lungs, like I was just a carcass. I wondered if it would get worse as the shock wore off, if the numbness would change to something worse, something painful. I wondered if, as my mind began to piece together everything, relive everything, if it would weigh me down more, more and more each day until I couldn't take it, until it crushed me.

I wished I could just erase the last eight years, it would make things so much easier. I would still be a monster if I had never met James though, if my time with him really could be erased. I couldn't decide which alternative seemed worse. I swallowed back my nausea as I began to unpack.