Some people have an identity.
Thal's eyes noted the bag nearby, yet her arms refused to release the trash, as if it was the only thing she could control. Clutching it closer to her chest, she stood, stepping further down the alleyway. A crow flew by, ripping a piece of garbage from her arms, but she couldn't do more than flutter her eyelids without a care for the inconvenience. Tal's question somehow made it through the fog of her brain, but she couldn't find the strength to give him an answer. Instead, she just shrugged her shoulders in response. Her crew had seen her mood and known to leave her be. Maybe it was the death in her eyes or the lingering threat of explosive violence just beneath the surface. Whatever it may have been, her crew refused to let their gazes meet hers or their paths to cross. They would wait for her in port, but she could see the doubt in their eyes, wondering whether their Captain was still within the shell before them.
She somehow noticed that the courier was still next to her as the doubts flooded her mind. Turning her face away, she grabbed another bottle, placing it precariously on the top of her pile. Maea kept intruding on her thoughts like her bloodlust at its peak, a constant need to know what had happened. Where was she? Was she okay? The haze of the alcohol was wearing off. She'd always had a high tolerance for the stuff, but now it seemed like a curse, releasing her burden back onto her shoulders with a crushing intensity. Gritting her teeth together, she threw the garbage into a nearby container, gripping its edges with more strength than her form suggested. Her fingers blanched, the blood pumping to her head, screaming She's dead. It's your fault. You don't deserve friends. That's why your memories were stolen from you. You are NO ONE.
Closing her eyes, Thal's breaths came fast, trying to match the racing of her heart. She couldn't stop the thoughts. She couldn't see a way out. It was the darkness all over again. It was like the last two years had never happened. It was overwhelming. She tightened her eyes harder, trying to block out the onslaught of emotions flooding back to her sobering mind.
She somehow noticed that the courier was still next to her as the doubts flooded her mind. Turning her face away, she grabbed another bottle, placing it precariously on the top of her pile. Maea kept intruding on her thoughts like her bloodlust at its peak, a constant need to know what had happened. Where was she? Was she okay? The haze of the alcohol was wearing off. She'd always had a high tolerance for the stuff, but now it seemed like a curse, releasing her burden back onto her shoulders with a crushing intensity. Gritting her teeth together, she threw the garbage into a nearby container, gripping its edges with more strength than her form suggested. Her fingers blanched, the blood pumping to her head, screaming She's dead. It's your fault. You don't deserve friends. That's why your memories were stolen from you. You are NO ONE.
Closing her eyes, Thal's breaths came fast, trying to match the racing of her heart. She couldn't stop the thoughts. She couldn't see a way out. It was the darkness all over again. It was like the last two years had never happened. It was overwhelming. She tightened her eyes harder, trying to block out the onslaught of emotions flooding back to her sobering mind.
I have an alibi.
I have a shadow self.
I have a shadow self.
Thalassa
