All I could think of was, had I handled things better, had I been better, none of this would be happening. In a single afternoon, I’d gone from feeling almost normal to being unable to differentiate myself from the guy who’d woken up in St. Yve’s Hospital three years ago. Stupid, and I knew it. A few weeks before, I would’ve been the first to remind myself they were the same guy. Maybe I’d convinced myself there was some form of going back to a time in which I felt like… more. Perhaps even moving forward, leaving St. Yve’s behind, and allowing myself to believe I could be happy. He’d done that, almost. He’d gotten me to believe I actually didn’t have anything wrong with me.

And yet.

The biggest piece I had, the one Dr. Foster said I hid so well and kept so safe, was left in front of his building. It was the only one that I didn’t mind leaving me.

It was his, anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Short On Goodness

I got home and went straight to my room, closed the door, and headed to the bathroom. I turned the shower on and stepped inside without even bothering to take off my clothes or shoes. As the water fell on my head, I couldn’t help but fall along with it, leaning against the cold white tiles and letting my body slide until reaching the floor. I didn’t know how long I sat there; I meant to remain inside until warming up, but it seemed to have been taking longer than it should. I kept shaking, even though the water touching my skin was burning hot.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Was this it? Had I finally given up? Properly, that was. The way I had, months before? It didn’t feel the same, but then again, that was what should’ve scared me. I felt tired, but tiredness had become a permanent companion of mine, I thought I was used to it by now. So why did it feel different? Why did it feel as though I lacked strength in a way I had never truly experienced before?