11. Chapter 3 Zayn's POV
The time gap that was after our fall was unknown and beyond me. It didn't hurt or even prickle the first time they latched my aching limbs to a gurney one by one by one. So leisurely as if my pain was their pleasure. When I attempted to lift my head to locate Carver and Coy, the band on my forehead restricted it. Which triggers all of the memories an hour or so ago. Now, from the outsiders Point of View, they must think I'm (along with Carver and Coy) one ballsy guy. But as I dived to my possible death, utter dread masked the adrenaline completely. Though, it couldn't of washed over my whole body since the unwelcoming slap of water indicated that I've reached the bottom of Varuna. Followed by two more. "Last names?" "Two of them are Gladebrier, not sure about the other kid." "Brothers?" 'No, the female and the taller boy." "Tributes?" "Yes. Or they wouldn't be on the Capitol Train. We'll have to pick from the two boys." So, this is it. This is our punishment. Reality clashed right back into my brain as if it were a boomerang. The load of grogginess blanketing my irises like fog over a District 7 spring morning. And Coy..Coy.. they might as well take her angel wings off her back because when and if she returns, she'll no longer be a virgin to murder. All her chastity- a lost cause. The over com I didnt't realize was dab centered right above me released a sentence nobody in their right mind would want to hear. "Ah, yes.. Can we get a body bag fit to carry a young gentleman? Last name: Gladebrier. Thank you." Without warning, I'm an adolescent again. That April scent you only get when flowers open up and invites you to their home. My past self, chortling along side Carver at the brink of Varuna. How we rescued each other with our rawboned arms. God told us that it was not our time to meet our maker. And as I look through all the moments of our bond mentally, I came to the conclusion that God wanted a special angel early. Just that thought alone wiped my self-control off as if it was that one pesky stain on a decent dress shirt and I bawled. And I bawled, 'till the sound of his first name spilt out of my lips didn't even sound English anymore. Until I witnessed the doctors tying a tag on his toe. It was if all my veins were the musical strings on a guitar, and having them tightened until all of them gave way. My best companion was gone; I was gone. My pain, my enjoyment, my motility was going away in that body bag. And, then there's Coy. who somehow managed to slip out of her restraints. Her doe eyes were almost as immense as the emotional turmoil branded forever into her heart. And she bawled, and bawled, until you could no longer classify her meltdown as crying and more like a drastic wailing, Because she herself knew deep down, there's never going to be a brother to hide behind or one to protect her like he did this morning. This was it. They would send Coy, I, and the disturbed memory of a best friend/brother ready to meet his maker.