A somber-faced Chana listened thoughtfully to Mel's words. The girl was dealing with the horrible fact that almost everyone in this world had to realize…sometimes killing was the only way to protect yourself. Chana vaguely remembered the world before the fall. She'd been young then, very young. Back then, killing wasn't a necessary form of defense…like it was now. Chana watched the younger girl's guilt play out on her face. Not guilt that the men had died, but more that they had died so easily. Exercising her torn arm a bit, Chana thought intently for a moment on how to respond. She knew that feeling all too well. That feeling that you'd just lost some of your humanity…but the knowledge that you would do it again. She let out a slow breath.
"The world has been, and always will be in a constant state of movement. Back when schools still existed, we learned that history repeats itself. Everything is in literal ruins right now…but just look around you. Life is already beginning to start up again. This cause, however unsteady and broken it is, is anything but lost. Things don't change in a day. That's why we have to start small. That's why we have to start here. And. You're not a lost cause either. None of us are. We've just all had this damned apocalypse take its toll. We may all be fumbling around like idiots in the dark…but we're doing something. We're adapting to the darkness. We're learning to see light." Chana sighed a moment after her words, deciding whether or not to continue. In a moment, she decided she would. Chana hated sharing things about her past, and rarely ever did. But in this moment, she felt like the girl needed to know that she wasn't the only one going through this.. Chana would trust Mel, and hoped in return, Mel would do the same to her.
"I grew up in a home where I learned how to take a beating. I was used to it. But one day, I found out that my stepfather and mother were running oncology experiments on human test subjects, trying to find the cure for cancer. I stumbled upon their case file on their main subject by chance. The main tissue samples were coming from a boy a little older than I was at the time, whose parents were heading the cancer research, my own mother and stepfather's partners. I remember reading the file, feeling sick because of the torture that that boy was enduring. I always knew my parents were involved in unwholesome and illegal practices. But I had never imagined that it would be on unwilling humans. The boy…Isao. That was his name. I thought of him, feeling sick. Before I knew what I was doing, I was shredding the files and the paperwork…trashing their life's research. They had no right to it. I wanted to make their tests become impossible. Their research futile. Then, maybe this Isao had a chance at a life. A life that I thought was too late for me, too scared to leave all that abuse. It was the foolish hope of a naive teenage girl. But as I was destroying the lab work ups and papers, my stepfather came into the room. I was used to beatings, to being hurt. My stepfather cared very little for Asher and I… but this rage I had never seen before. He moved to where I was, stood behind me, and grasped my shoulders." Chana's voice was clear, but inside she felt herself wavering, wanting to stop. This was something she hadn't talked about in all those years. Squaring her shoulders, she looked straight ahead and continued.
"I was frozen. Then, before I knew what was happening, he was running, propelling me towards the back wall. He pushed me, till he had slammed me into a wall of lab chemicals and acids. The glass bottles and containers were shattering with the impact of my body. One particular container had made direct contact with my stomach. I slammed into it, breaking it...the chemicals inside splashing up in a wave over my stomach and chest. I remember hearing myself scream as the acid burned through my skin. He dragged me back to push me again. I remember my hand tightening around a large glass shard. He had paused for a moment, and I sunk it into his belly. He stopped in shock, this man who was nothing more than a torturer to my brother and I. I did it again, and again. Until he was on the floor, bleeding out. I ran from that room, locked the lab, and threw the key in the garbage disposal. As soon as I was out, I grabbed Asher and left that house, and we never went back again. That was the first time I killed, Mel. And after it was over…all I felt was relief. A disgusting relief that he would never hurt Asher or I again. I killed someone. Easily. It cursed me with this scar. This ugly reminder of that past."
Chana's face was solemn, her mouth a grim line. She set her hand on Mel's knee, looking at the girl for the first time. "Look, Mel. I didn't tell you that for you to think of me as someone to pity. I told it to you, so you would know. So you would know that in this world, we all carry that bit of darkness inside us. But you cannot let it consume you. I did what I had to do. You did what you had to do. It's terrible, it's twisted, and it's not okay. But there was no other choice. For either of us. Life goes on. This, too, shall pass. I know from experience."
Chana released a long sigh, and crossed her arms. She hadn't intended to go into that much detail, but what's done is done. Chana felt slightly sick at the memory, remembering why she didn't speak of it. But words had been said, and she didn't regret them. If this sickening bit of her past could help someone now. Well, then...so be it.
"The world has been, and always will be in a constant state of movement. Back when schools still existed, we learned that history repeats itself. Everything is in literal ruins right now…but just look around you. Life is already beginning to start up again. This cause, however unsteady and broken it is, is anything but lost. Things don't change in a day. That's why we have to start small. That's why we have to start here. And. You're not a lost cause either. None of us are. We've just all had this damned apocalypse take its toll. We may all be fumbling around like idiots in the dark…but we're doing something. We're adapting to the darkness. We're learning to see light." Chana sighed a moment after her words, deciding whether or not to continue. In a moment, she decided she would. Chana hated sharing things about her past, and rarely ever did. But in this moment, she felt like the girl needed to know that she wasn't the only one going through this.. Chana would trust Mel, and hoped in return, Mel would do the same to her.
"I grew up in a home where I learned how to take a beating. I was used to it. But one day, I found out that my stepfather and mother were running oncology experiments on human test subjects, trying to find the cure for cancer. I stumbled upon their case file on their main subject by chance. The main tissue samples were coming from a boy a little older than I was at the time, whose parents were heading the cancer research, my own mother and stepfather's partners. I remember reading the file, feeling sick because of the torture that that boy was enduring. I always knew my parents were involved in unwholesome and illegal practices. But I had never imagined that it would be on unwilling humans. The boy…Isao. That was his name. I thought of him, feeling sick. Before I knew what I was doing, I was shredding the files and the paperwork…trashing their life's research. They had no right to it. I wanted to make their tests become impossible. Their research futile. Then, maybe this Isao had a chance at a life. A life that I thought was too late for me, too scared to leave all that abuse. It was the foolish hope of a naive teenage girl. But as I was destroying the lab work ups and papers, my stepfather came into the room. I was used to beatings, to being hurt. My stepfather cared very little for Asher and I… but this rage I had never seen before. He moved to where I was, stood behind me, and grasped my shoulders." Chana's voice was clear, but inside she felt herself wavering, wanting to stop. This was something she hadn't talked about in all those years. Squaring her shoulders, she looked straight ahead and continued.
"I was frozen. Then, before I knew what was happening, he was running, propelling me towards the back wall. He pushed me, till he had slammed me into a wall of lab chemicals and acids. The glass bottles and containers were shattering with the impact of my body. One particular container had made direct contact with my stomach. I slammed into it, breaking it...the chemicals inside splashing up in a wave over my stomach and chest. I remember hearing myself scream as the acid burned through my skin. He dragged me back to push me again. I remember my hand tightening around a large glass shard. He had paused for a moment, and I sunk it into his belly. He stopped in shock, this man who was nothing more than a torturer to my brother and I. I did it again, and again. Until he was on the floor, bleeding out. I ran from that room, locked the lab, and threw the key in the garbage disposal. As soon as I was out, I grabbed Asher and left that house, and we never went back again. That was the first time I killed, Mel. And after it was over…all I felt was relief. A disgusting relief that he would never hurt Asher or I again. I killed someone. Easily. It cursed me with this scar. This ugly reminder of that past."
Chana's face was solemn, her mouth a grim line. She set her hand on Mel's knee, looking at the girl for the first time. "Look, Mel. I didn't tell you that for you to think of me as someone to pity. I told it to you, so you would know. So you would know that in this world, we all carry that bit of darkness inside us. But you cannot let it consume you. I did what I had to do. You did what you had to do. It's terrible, it's twisted, and it's not okay. But there was no other choice. For either of us. Life goes on. This, too, shall pass. I know from experience."
Chana released a long sigh, and crossed her arms. She hadn't intended to go into that much detail, but what's done is done. Chana felt slightly sick at the memory, remembering why she didn't speak of it. But words had been said, and she didn't regret them. If this sickening bit of her past could help someone now. Well, then...so be it.
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