Nowhere: 1

Nowhere: three

Even as Kakarot slams and locks the door, the safety of the latch does little to calm the beating of my heart. My whole body is shaking, and it feels like my stomach is an endless pit. I run a hand over my face as Kakarot removes a packet of cigarettes from his coat with trembling hands. It takes him a few tries to light up, and, when he finally does, he inhales so deep it nearly ashes half of it. We linger around the door as if to make sure that something isn't coming after us.

When he finally looks at me, I snap. "You fucking retard!" I scream, my hands balling into fists. Somehow, I cannot bring myself to hit him, "What the fuck were you thinking!?" He says nothing, but his expression says it all. I turn away from his apology.

Then, without warning, my anger transforms into something akin to despair, and I feel as cold as I did back there. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," I choke out. Suddenly, I'm covering my face as unaccustomed tears escape me. I cannot recall the last time I've cried that's how long it's been.

I've been here too long. In stark contrast I can see that I was taking comfort in the familiar. But the stress is monumental, unbearable. I know, because I know I've cried in front of Kakarot before, regardless that that's impossible. I wish my memories weren't like a city plagued with natural disasters.

I'm captivated by so much negativity that I can barely recognise basic emotions nestled within the torrent. Shame, embarrassment... failure and grief... these are only a few that gather in my shielding hands. All of this is the aftermath of our escape.

Kakarot suddenly grabs me and holds me against him. A part of me wishes to chastise him for his audacity. It's drowned by the solace the closeness brings.

Somewhere, someone, something went very, very wrong.

This world feels wrong, and it has from the beginning.

I wish I could go home.

"I didn't know," he assures me in a tone hitherto unheard. The way he holds me makes it seem as if he's afraid I'll simply disappear.

It's silent in the room. It's too quiet. "Put something on," I demand while removing my hands from my face, wiping my eyes in the process.

"What?" he asks - confused.

"Put some music on or something, I can't stand the fucking silence!" I yell at him again, but am relieved that this anger vanquishes any vestiges of my crying.

"Oh, okay," he murmurs while reluctantly removing his grip. He crosses the room to the old stereo system and I follow. We collapse onto the couch of his diminutive flat. It's strange that despite everything I dislike about him, I know that I prefer his company now more than ever. I have no idea why. I only know that I could've lost him. I know it feels like I lost something of myself.

I lean against him.

He responds by putting his arm around me.

"Someone once wrote how Hell has many layers," I think aloud, "I wonder which one we're in."

He chuckles a fake chuckle - the kind you give because it's expected. Then, he declares, "I'm going to burn that place to the ground."

"Good luck," I reply.

He says nothing.

The music fills my head with hope. I never before imagined it could do such a thing. Slowly, ever so slowly, relaxation sets in. My breath comes normally. The terror is passing. It may come back to me in a waking moment, or in my sleep. Apathy takes root, creating a comfortable numb.

Kakarot makes an astonishingly intimate gesture by resting his head atop mine.

Like an outline of a shadow, a memory washes over me.

I don't know why I smile.