Voices passed over her like a blur of noise in the background of an overactive mind, but her eyelids were heavy, her hair was kept only by a bow tied in it by Emily hours earlier, when she passed by and treated Texas like a small child, like the daughter she never had, like the daughter she had lost. For the first time through dark brown eyes, she began to see the repercussions of her own actions, and it wasn’t just because of the needles that had been stuck in her arms every few hours as if she would attempt to escape the strange situation she had been put in. She wouldn’t have. Not because she wanted to be tested on, not because she simply did not care for her fate, but because with everything within her, she really did wish she could do what they wanted, that the secret to saving Emily was really in her own blood stream, travelling through her body. It wasn’t. She knew that. She was sick. Not like Emily, not like anybody outside of the walls of this school. Speckles of blood dotted tissues that fell around her chair as if it was for decoration and the pencil was crooked in her hand as she sat in front of the table, a piece of paper blank in front of her. “Don’t you understand, we’re not trying to hurt you,” he had said as he perched at the end of the table, offering her a pack of crayons as if her mind was as fragile as a small child, as if she had no concept of what was happening, but she had not replied. She had not spoken back, just looked up at him with empty and hollow eyes– he did not want to know her answer, he did not want to know the truth. He was blinded by his own selfish wants, his needs to correct what he had done, and she couldn’t help but wander about why, if Charles had so badly wanted to ensure that the past and the future merged into one beautiful happy ending, he had disappeared off of the face of the Earth. Perhaps it had been the same reason that she had too, for the sake of peace.
Seconds passed so slowly that it became harder to think, harder to breathe, the window so heavy she could barely lift it up, her skin felt so clean and new that she could barely fathom what was happening here anymore. The doctors had found nothing. They could not have possibly found anything, for, there was nothing wrong, nothing that they wanted to see anyway, other than a drug that rampaged her body until there was nothing left but shadows. She had been the first to fall ill, she would surely be the first to fade away. It was as she slid back into the chair she had been sat in for hours that she heard the door clicking through the pounding of her head, through the murky thoughts of fire and destruction that lingered still, “–Jesse,” her voice was faint, broken by a strange cough as she raised a tissue to her mouth, ignoring the familiar taste of blood in her mouth as she placed it down, almost standing up in order to meet him, eyes peeking with recognition, “Are you my new doctor?” she asked, as if this situation was completely normal, as if there was absolutely no reason why a Seventeen year old boy should be carrying out an important study on one of his peers, she poked the pencil on the table in front of her feverishly glancing away, “You know, Ricky told me that everybody likes a little bit of darkness,” she glanced back up at the boy, noting his sickly appearance, “But they don’t, do they? Sometimes they want to take it away, you’re going to take it away,” she sat back, placing her hands on the arms of the chair and closing her eyes, resting one foot against the edge of the table, “I don’t mind pain. You can take it away, you can clear my mind, it’s okay. Ruby trusted you, I trust you too.”