[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]she doesn't hear him.

not when her mind is a cacophony of memories and thoughts and guilt. so much guilt.

senses slowly come back and she begins to pace, staring down at her hands. stains stare back up, cold and drying and she tries to shake them off but they just won't budge.

jirachi sits a few feet away from her. watching, judging.

and she can hear the judgement, too, in his voice when he calls her name. or is it panic?

she can't tell the difference between anything anymore.

grunts are sea hoennians. people on the street, coworkers, her own reflection. they're all water lodged and she's drowning.

"i--"

she doesn't know what to say, how to explain herself, how to glue herself back together, how to make it okay.

bile rises. she chokes.

"i'msorry, i'msosorry."

ALEXANDER STONE

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]every ounce of her body wills her to not look.

out of sight, out of mind.

but she plays it over and over: the way her hand seemed to move on its own accord, how she felt like an observer in her own body, and the sick sensation of feeling blood splatter onto her body and not stopping.

it's happening more often, this break from reality.

she balls her hands into fists until nails dig into palm and draw red life.

and she can hear the medics working, the groans of pain, the sound of an injury squishing beneath applied pressure.

she has to hold a hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up right there on the floor.

guilt brings nausea and nausea brings tears.

what has she done?

ALEXANDER STONE

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]he approaches, reaches for her shoulder, says her name…

and she steps back.

her eyes are wide, afraid, cornered.

he shouldn’t get close to her. she’ll hurt him the way she hurt these grunts. she hurts everyone she comes into contact with.

he’s safe as long as he’s away from her.

safe, unharmed, whole…

”don’t.”

she says it as if she’s short of air, as if her lungs are collasping and she can’t breathe.

”please.”

ALEXANDER STONE

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]she doesn't know where to start.

everything feels wrong. her head, her body, her reflection in the mirror. even reality feels like it's slipping.

and she looks torn, half here half gone.

"i'm losing control."

it's soft, barely above a hushed whisper. the admission is difficult, she realizes, to breathe life into.

she doesn't want to recognize the losing battle, her own transgressions, her failures.

tears begin to bubble up around the edges of her eyes, tickling waterlines until they leak over.

"i -- they were sea hoennians."

she sounds like she's trying to reason with herself more than explain to him.

"i thought they were sea hoennian soldiers."

ALEXANDER STONE

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]she has.

therapy only went so far, only helped so much.

a trained psychologist cannot stop the blurring of reality and fantasy. they are unable to keep her mind here in the present. it keeps slipping further and further down the rabbit hole of perceived threats and creeping paranoia.

"they didn't help."

no one did.

a soft, bitter laugh escapes.

"it's not just trauma."

it's the future. it's what's yet to come.

she's drowning in just the thought of sea hoenn. what will happen when they come, when they knock on their doors?

"they'll be coming soon."

fact.

"it'll end then."

she'll end it herself. a building symphony of crazed paranoia until the final crescendo falls. will she fall lifeless with it?

ALEXANDER STONE

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]”sea hoenn.”

her back crawls with life, skin ready to lurch off muscle and bone.

”i saw them, you know.”

she still feels guilt and overwhelmingly, rage. it persists, heavy like a stone in the way it drops into her stomach. it never eases.

”during mt pyre.”

how can she function properly with their survival looming over her? with the threat of a war crafted by her own hands building in the background?

ALEXANDER STONE

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]her expression begins to crumple.

"you didn't survive, then."

and even though he's here, she can't shake that fact. he is alive, whole, but she still remembers the feeling of finding out, of visiting a grave, of quiet mourning in the secluded corners of her childhood room.

it had been gut-wrenching. will sea hoenn's invasion leave the same ugly mark?

"i don't know... we're not prepared to face an army of avatars. not now."

ALEXANDER STONE