She couldn't count how many times she'd been told that the Fear burns would fade soon enough, that she wouldn't scar. She was lucky, it would be such a shame to ruin such a lovely complexion. Her pretty face would be good as new in no time, thanks to her bond with Nona.
It made her sick. Her chest ached with the need to scream. Didn't they understand that she was partially to blame for the near deaths of both Clerise and Rep? Didn't they realize that she'd had a chance to run, a chance to call for help - and yet she'd stayed? She'd done nothing? Didn't they know that the real damage was not something that could be seen - only felt? The scars were not visible. They were safely tucked away until she could find a way to cope. A way to work through everything she'd seen. Everything she'd heard.
Sasha broke down twice on the way to her dorm. Each time she would stop, grasping at the shreds of composure that were slowly ebbing away from her before continuing to her dorm. Bile rose in her throat, thick and bitter, coating her tongue with its acidic taste. She was tortured by the memories of Clerise falling to the ground like a broken marionette, strings snipped so effortlessly. A discarded toy, crumpled and tossed aside. The sight of Rep dangling from the sharp claws of the she-beast that had nearly killed them all.
Blood. So much blood. Even now the scent of it clogged her nostrils with its coppery, metallic tang. She would never forget the sticky warmth as it dried on her skin with an impossible quickness.
Something so vital to life - to living - should not be so easy to take.
Her thoughts felt so fragmented and disjointed, like an upturned bookshelf. Sasha felt off-balance with no way to bring herself back to center. In times past, there'd always been her music. Her flute. A way to distance herself from any threat of pain or unrest, disapproval or hurt. An escape. She was lost, now; there was nothing to do now but face reality.
It was an ugly beast. It would not be ignored.
Sanctuary came in the way of her dorm. Slipping inside, Sasha locked the door and leaned her forehead against it. Her heart thrummed in her chest, a constant rhythm providing a bassline for Nona's soothing, unobtrusive song. All Sasha wanted to do was sleep - to forget, for just a little while, about the carnage she'd been privy to. Later she would force herself to visit Clerise and Rep. As much as she wanted to, Sasha knew she couldn't hide forever.
Slipping her jacket from her shoulders, Sasha blatantly ignored the crimson-brown that stained it. She dropped it to the floor and turned towards her bed.
Only then did she see the case.
The rich brown leather was so painfully familiar. Sasha was afraid to blink lest it disappear entirely. Trembling hands clasped over her lips as she took another step forward, and another before she faltered. Sasha forced herself to close her eyes; tears spilled down her cheeks as she hesitantly opened them again. The case was still there, golden hinges gleaming softly. Welcoming.
Like an old friend.
Sasha moved to the bed on weak legs, knuckles pale as they dug into the comforter. Her hand trembled as she reached forward, slender fingers moving across the dimpled leather; over the dings and dents that had come with time - a map of their days spent together. She moved the case into her lap, her thumb brushing against the latch that kept it securely shut. Hesitantly she pressed it in; the case opened with a gentle 'click' - a warm hello, old friend, you have been dearly missed.
The case seemed to open on its own, revealing the warm gold of a flute nestled against pale blue velvet. The sight of it caused an ache deep in Sasha's chest, a poignant pain that bordered on unbearable. It seemed to glow from within as if it should be warm to the touch; Sasha brushed her thumb against the engraving that decorated the headjoint, the gold deceptively cool to the touch. A second, smaller engraving caught her eye. Sasha froze.
Sasha Antoinette
Keep the Song Alive
2000
Keep the Song Alive
2000
Sasha burst into tears. Curling up on the bed, Sasha clutched the case to her chest. Nona was silent throughout the reunion, though she was a warm and gentle presence in Sasha's mind. A reassuring reminder that Sasha was never alone.
For the first time since awakening on the island - and despite the horrors she'd been witness to in the past eighteen hours - sleep came effortlessly to Sasha. She slept curled around the brown leather case, complete again.
