Catching His Queen [MDM Sequel]

Chapter Thirteen

There will be a few flashbacks here and there within this chapter, so be sure to be on the lookout for them! (I think I indicated which section was a flashback pretty well, so hopefully there isn't too much confusion!)

WARNING: This chapter is heavy, and can be confusing. I hope everyone can remember to take in the fact that what Evie went through was extremely traumatic, so she will be acting as someone who has just escaped an extremely toxic environment.

If you find yourself at all affected by this chapter, or portions of it, please don't read it, or skip through the part that bothers you.

There is some explanation of the chapter below in the Author's Note, so if you are confused, check out that section. If you have any unanswered questions, you can PM me, and I will try to respond ASAP.

Much love, and please enjoy! xx

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Chapter Thirteen

"Stone cold,

Stone cold,

You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor,

Stone cold, stone cold,

Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore"

— Demi Lovato "Stone Cold"

Charles Darwin's claim to fame surrounded his theory on survival—specifically, the survival of the fittest. The "fittest" in the eyes of Darwin, wasn't deemed that way based on physical strength, something most people often associate with that word today.

No.

The fittest were the ones who learned to adapt. They acknowledged their strengths and weaknesses, and then worked to eliminate those weaknesses. They took on every challenge, knowing that if they didn't, they would die.

My greatest weakness in the situation that I had found myself trapped in, was my emotions.

So I eliminated them.

Darwin would have praised me. He would have probably written a book purely off of my ability to survive, and then made himself a fortune. Because at the end of the day—despite the physical, emotional, and mental trauma—I was still breathing.

Somehow, my heart was still beating. My chest rose and fell with every breath of air that filled my lungs.

I had adapted in the ways I needed to in order to survive.

Unfortunately, Darwin seemed to only be concerned with the idea of mere survival itself. He praised the adaptations made; yet, he failed to do a full analysis of whether these adaptations were truly beneficial to the species—and in this case, to the individual.

Was I better off without my emotions?

I was breathing. I was alive. I had survived. But was this truly and honestly the best decision?

The girl before me, standing on shaky legs, seemed to think otherwise.

I analyzed the mirror closely. My hair was absolutely filthy: full of dirt and blood, and matted down by the heavy oil and grease that had collected. My body was in an even worse state. The cuts and bruises that scattered my exposed skin made my stomach twist. The cast for my now, re-broken thumb, hung heavily on my weak wrist.

It seemed as though every breath I took was labored and incredibly painful. My chest would constrict, as though it was physically asking me if this was something I had to do.