[ She heaves for breath, but the stress and the panic keep her from succumbing to the tears she needs to cry; it's a weird, restless pain that gets tangled up in her chest and goes nowhere.
Her thoughts, on the other hand, go everywhere. All the possibilities for how a world like this could exist, and what it means for the one she's lost, and the people who could be here, or aren't, or the whys of so many things — they stack and spiral, none of them really making any sense or drawing any conclusions.
Well, almost none. There is one thought that rises above the rest, complete and damning in its simplicity. After all, this world was destroyed, and here it is not. Billions upon billions of people were dead, and here they are not. The place where she grew up, the place where she found her family and her first real friends, her first loves, her home had been blown apart at her back, taken away — and now it is not. Now it is returned to her — different, and strange, and scuffed in strange places, damaged anew in predictable ways — but it is. The greatest thing she's lost has been given back to her.
So, why is she so upset? Why is she so unhappy? ]
I'm sorry. [ She doesn't know what's wrong with her. She wants to cry; all she can do is tremble. ] I don't know what to do.
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Her thoughts, on the other hand, go everywhere. All the possibilities for how a world like this could exist, and what it means for the one she's lost, and the people who could be here, or aren't, or the whys of so many things — they stack and spiral, none of them really making any sense or drawing any conclusions.
Well, almost none. There is one thought that rises above the rest, complete and damning in its simplicity. After all, this world was destroyed, and here it is not. Billions upon billions of people were dead, and here they are not. The place where she grew up, the place where she found her family and her first real friends, her first loves, her home had been blown apart at her back, taken away — and now it is not. Now it is returned to her — different, and strange, and scuffed in strange places, damaged anew in predictable ways — but it is. The greatest thing she's lost has been given back to her.
So, why is she so upset? Why is she so unhappy? ]
I'm sorry. [ She doesn't know what's wrong with her. She wants to cry; all she can do is tremble. ] I don't know what to do.