Imaginary Friends tend to make not so imaginary enemies.
*****
In an ever-populated area once open to the outside lies The Apex, a domed fortress separated into 7 Sites. Running low on resources in their safe haven, The Apex introduces a program tha...
Eli thumbed over a red, wet splotch drying on Rhoawyn's cheek. "Here, you've got a little blood on your face."
And a lot of blood on my hands.
The aftershocks of the battle tremored through Rhoawyn as she let him dote, checking her body for any injuries. The surviving Mares fled after she slew their leader, and the group didn't wish to chase after them. Rhoawyn's face was a mask of poise—of normalcy. She was hyperaware of the weighted rise of her cheeks and steady timbre of her own voice replying to whatever Eli was saying. But underneath that facade, in the center of her mind, was the image of Luci and her father. The image of them splitting—no, severing—right before her eyes. An ever-looping image of them dying by her own hand.
Rhoawyn had literally lost it all. She had lost all the things and people she believed were her everything before she became an Imaginary—before she Departed. Now there was no room for reconciliation. The only option was to move on. She had to let go of people that tried to destroy her—use her—and turn her against those who she had come to trust. To care for. To love.
Rhoawyn found solace in knowing that it was over, in knowing that they defeated two evils.
She closed her eyes to the carnage when she learned that everyone who should have survived had. She let Eli hoist her up in his arms. Her legs were wobblier than a newborn calf, so she didn't resist and instead flattened her face into the darkness of his chest.
Dad was gone now, for good. And though there was a part of her that wanted to mourn him one last time, to mourn herself and the killer she'd just become, there was another part that was glad he was gone. Glad he could no longer hurt anyone else with his brilliance—with his lies. But there was still his family to think of; His new family, the one comprised of his new wife and new child, who Rhoawyn had now left abandoned just as her father had left her.
Where was the joy of vindication? Where was her satisfaction? She had won the battle, not expecting her prize to be emptiness. Rhoawyn was hollowed by the hand she had in ripping apart someone else's life, just as so many had ripped apart hers. She was left empty by the realization that she tore her own father from this world.
There was meant to be celebration—uncontested victory. Her friends would see it as such. But who really won? All Rhoawyn had done was lose.
An unintelligible murmuring vibrated through the haze of her thoughts, and she turned her head. Eli's lips were moving, but Rhoawyn was not in a place to properly process the words those lips were saying so she looked away. She stared at her hands shaking around the lapels of his coat. Took in the labored heaves of her breath that echoed in her own ears. Shadows crowded in around her, likely the ones belonging to Winfrey and Jazara, but she didn't make a motion to acknowledge them. Instead she hid. She curled herself tighter into Eli's chest, thankful for the hand that cradled the back of her head.
Rhoawyn drowned out the group's talking and lulled into a headspace of her own making. She willed herself away from this world—away from today. By force, her breathing to synced with Eli's steps and she pushed herself into a numb, needed doze.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rhoawyn woke to the rumbling wheels of a rover on its slow decline behind the rolling hills of the Fringe. The sun gave way to darkness as she and the others rode back to the dome. Silence hung over them as they faced the lives none of them ever thought they would face again.
It was daunting, frightening even, but an uneasy weight lifted from Rhoawyn's shoulders with each second that passed. Each mile between her and the irreparable losses that she suffered in this world outside of The Apex, lifted her spirits. But a new heaviness settled in alongside it as she looked forward to the life she once longed to give up.
Would she be able to see Eva again? Would she just mesh back into Apex society like every other puzzle piece in the board—temporarily misplaced, but eventually a part of the whole. But how could she after knowing what she knew?
What of Eli's family? Of Winfrey's? Of Jazara's? Of Flinch's, even. Would she be able to meet them, to learn of the worlds they grew up in before being thrown together under the guise of Departure? Would she be able to hold her tongue about the truth? All these thoughts swam in Rhoawyn's mind as they arrived at the outer gate. The gate that Rhoawyn had almost made it back to in a time long passed.
Rhoawyn stared up into Eli's eyes, fingers dancing over sharp of cheekbones until they came to rest at his shoulders. Eli held her gaze as if trying to give her time to adjust—to come to terms with everything that was happening. Eli leaned his forehead to hers, nudging his nose against hers in a show of affection—of love.
When his eyes drifted up from hers and into the glare of sunlight up ahead, his brow furrowed. Rhoawyn followed his gaze just as their vehicle came to a stop on the outskirts of The Apex. From the lid of The Apex's outer gate emerged a group of lime green lab coats. Coats they had hoped to leave behind. People they had longed to be free of. But no one ever got what they wanted here. The Apex didn't deal in things like wish fulfillment.
"Welcome back to The Apex," they said in unison.
They handed each of them a crisp envelope bearing The Apex's seal. Rhoawyn didn't want to open it. Opening it could only mean bad news. It could only mean more suffering. But she did open it. They all did. They had no choice. Choice wasn't something The Apex readily gave out, and they weren't even considered citizens of it anymore.
When Rhoawyn read what was inside, on a note in that familiar bold print, her hand shook. And it finally dawned on her—written out plain as day in front of her eyes.
You don't have to like every gift you're given because the gift of life comes with a price, and someone always pays up. Imaginaries lived, The Apex lived, and even the Mares lived today because some had Departed—no, died—yesterday. And as sure as the new invitation in her hand—from The Council, no less—Rhoawyn knew there would someone else to die tomorrow. Many someones, she was sure.
