Damage Beyond Repair || Memory
There was a blur. No, not a blur. Fog, it was fog. Or better yet, smoke. The scorching smell in the air clouded his senses, his nostrils burnt and his eyes stung but the tears barely made it out before they dried. His tongue was parched because of the acrid odor coming from the flames that blazed before his eyes. This was his doing, he did it. Not him Ante, him Luka. The rotten part of him that no one could control. The part of him he wished could be ripped out of him and annihilated. The part of him that would be kept in him, no matter how much he wished otherwise, no matter how much he fought it. That part would always manage to creep out of him when he least expect it, if he even expected anything anymore.
Somehow the burning air brought him back, Ante was back in his body but it was too late. His eyes made out the shadow of a scorched body on the floor, lifeless and dark. This time he had truly done damage beyond repair. He’d murdered someone, an innocent, someone with a family, loved ones, an entire life ahead of them. This time he couldn’t apologize, he couldn’t ask him brother to deal with the consequences, he was tired of being a coward. This time he had to face the outcome of his actions. No more hiding behind his brother. No more hiding behind the disease that has been haunting him his whole life. No more hiding behind Luka.
His hand reached for a blazing tree branch on the ground, his eyes both mesmerized and terrified by how bright and warm it looked, and before he could make up his mind, his left hand closed around the incandescent tip of wood. He didn’t cry or yelled his lungs out. If Ante would be honest, he didn’t feel the flames burning his flesh, the sting was nothing compared to the hollowness in his chest. He was losing himself slowly, but he was ready to get ahold of his life. He was ready to face the weeping families, the guilt consuming him, the people’s fearful eyes whenever he walked in a room, the whispers behind his back, the hateful comments of those who believed he should be imprisoned. From that moment on, his skin would scar every time he failed to stop himself from hurting, it would remind him of his failure. It would remind him of the damage he’d made. It would remind him of the monster he didn’t want to become.
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