incorrigible

CHAPTER 5: WISH TO RESTART 

Rejection hurt a lot.

It leaves you dumbfounded, not knowing what to do next.

But people react differently, they may see rejection as a minor obstacle, motivation to continue, or just stop altogether. There's a great number of ways to respond, and you chose to...

Restart.

. . .

I want to restart everything..! I did it all wrong... wrong wrong wrong..!

Your mind wasn't in the right when you decided that, yet you stood by it. 

━━━━━━ 

The sun was going down, and the streetlights simultaneously take their shifts, finally illuminating the soon-to-be dark streets. Blinding multicolored neon signs, large commercial screens, and traffic horns took over, waves of nostalgia took over her mind. These streets are what she is familiar with, it was the back of her hand.

She took a sharp turn and disappeared into an alleyway. Her fingers traced the cracks in the walls as she went deeper, the smell of burnt trash and exposed sewage attacks her senses. She did not flinch.

Almost... there...

The path got narrow. It echoed the faintest of sounds: water dripping, laughter, and the mewl of a stray cat. To her, it felt a lot more lively than when she was there. She went further into the darkness, relying on nothing but the stars. A breeze came through, threatening to rip off the large long-sleeved shirt she wore. However, she couldn't help but feel a bit of difference in the winds, an amount of warmth. She approached a corner with a flickering orange light.

There, two hooded strangers stood in her path, enjoying the warmth of the trash bin fire. With their palms exposed and focused on staying warm, she thought they wouldn't notice her. But unfortunately a cat appears and screeches at her presence, causing the strangers to look her way. Perhaps the world was against her.

"Look, a stray cat," one says, and his partner mumbles in agreement.

[f/n] chose to stay silent, and continued to pass them... or attempted too.

They block your path. "You look a little too clean... got cash?"

. . .

"I... have nothing..."

He pushes her roughly, causing her to lose balance and land on her butt. 

━━━━━━ 

You purse your lips but you don't panic, there was no need to waste energy.

"Ya got sum fine clothes on ya," something in his hand glints in the moonlight, "wanna give 'em up?" His friend follows closely from behind.

You clutched your shirt, feeling the fabric before deciding. "Okay."

The men were shocked, not expecting you to give in so easily.

"Oh... well," he was figuring out what to say.

You had already taken off the article, which left you with a tank top, shorts, and shoes. There was no signs of hesitation. You extend your arm with the shirt in your hands, ready for the strangers to take it.

"Here," you say. "Take it and let me pass."

They look at each other before he grabs it off your hand. You bring yourself back up and passed them, leaving a tense silence behind.

. . .

. . .

SHLACK!

. . !

You stumble from the pain on your leg, and collapse onto the concrete. The impact sends a shockwave of pain throughout her wounded leg, making her hiss at the discomfort.

"I gotta feelin' that you misunderstand, we mean all ya clothes." They laugh at you.

Tears prick the sides of your eyes as you attempted to stand back up. "I can't do that..!"

You look to your injury and find a pocket knife lodged fairly deep inside your calf. Thick streams of blood came pouring out whenever you moved, staining your legs before collecting into a puddle. Your eyesight went blurry at times, and you felt lightheaded.

"You think we takin' no for 'n answer?!" 

━━━━━━ 

You breathe heavily and moved your back against the wall. It was over.

It was quite a scene for such a small space. 

The two men were unconscious and pinned up against the backwalls of the buildings by the rough concrete at their feet. It appears that the floor has distorted, and was once alive to stop the strangers from getting any closer. It was hard to see but blood was painted everywhere, you weren't sure if it was yours.

Even after such chaos, the night went on. No one else came, no one else was near.

But at least, it was safe...

. . .

The faint fire in the trashcan was desperate to continue, to crackle and glow bright.

You clutch your shirt tightly in your grip, which became fairly bloodied by recent events, and tied it around your wound. The knife was still pierced inside, but you didn't dare to remove it, because you didn't want to see more blood. Your eyes threatened to close, and your body willing to rest, but you... couldn't.

So you sat there, waiting.

. . .

. . .

. . .

...waiting..? Waiting for what..?

Some part of you felt that waiting was the best option, even if you didn't know why.

. . .

. . .

. . .

You cursed under your breath.

You hated yourself.

What happened to the reality you grew with? The cruelty of the streets, the disgust and greed, the border between the dead and living?

The times you used to sleep inside a dumpster during the winter, with hunger and weakness destroying your mind, those times were what you had to do for yourself, and all you could do for yourself.

You didn't hope for some hero to help you.

And so, you wondered why you stood, doing nothing but waiting.

It must've been your mind accustomed to everyone's hospitality after you were saved... 

━━━━━━ 

No matter how tightly wrapped her leg was, it wouldn't stop bleeding. With her senses slowly weakening, the waves of pain were not as troublesome as it was in the start, yet she didn't want to lose consciousness.

With every last ounce of strength, she helped herself up with the help of the walls. Her fingers desperately roamed for cracks, grooves, any edge that would support her on her way back. Sadly her unsteady mind may be the reason she'll hit the dust. She tries her best not to lose balance, for she was sure that the next time she fell, she wouldn't be able to get back up.

She left the terrible scene, noticing she could no longer hear the spits or feel the heat of the fire. It had died. In a way, the flame had successfully fulfilled its job of providing warmth and light to those at that corner, with [f/n] being the last. Somewhere in her mind she applauded it for staying until the end, and believed it was a sign that she was next.

The alley became wider, forcing her to rely on her only healthy leg to keep going.

Almost there..!

Bright neon colors and the grumbles of car engines slowly got closer, she was nearing her limit.

She bled too much.

. . .

. . .

THUD! 

━━━━━━ 

"...emergency blood transfusion..!"

"...faint...heart..."

"...need...defibrillator..!" 

━━━━━━ 

"She's in here."

The door opens to reveal a small grey-haired woman with a white coat and a walking stick resembling a syringe. She walks in to stop at the foot of your bed, and faces you. There was a worried look on her face, but it had no effect on you.

You hated seeing those.

You stare back, meeting her thin ones through her tinted visor. There was a moment of silence, making you wonder if you were to speak first.

"Hello."

. . .

"Is that all you're going to tell me, [f/n]?"

You look away, not responding.

"I've heard from the police. What the hell were you planning to do?!"

No response.

"YOU ALMOST DIED! Why are you acting as if nothing happened?!"

You meet her eyes. "I'm alive now, there's no need to worry about the past."

And for the first time after a one-year coma, you smiled. 

CHAPTER 5 END