N.B : If you'd like to get early access to Universal hope chapters, why not consider supporting me at Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom. Your donations will be very much appreciated. On my Patreon, supporters get the complete, uninterrupted chapters in full.
Taking the willpower to stand up, Petra left her room.
Her parents were still arguing.
"I told you for the last time I didn't mean to say that!"
"Then why would you accuse me in the first place?!"
"Because-!"
The two parents stopped as soon as they saw their daughter come into view.
"Petra?"
"Don't worry. Just going out for a walk."
Before the ginger haired girl could reach the doors, a hand clutched around her arm. It was her mother's.
"Mom."
"Are you sure that it will be safe to go outside while you are recovering?"
Petra hesitated as she saw the worry in her mother's face and the way her father was watching her. She had seen it their eyes, they did not want her to go.
"I will be fine."
"But you need-"
"I'll be fine!...Please. I just need to clear my head."
Peter Ral just sighed. "Fine. But be back on time."
Eventually her mother also relented, letting go of her arm. When Petra opened the doors and left their street, the streets of Trost were crowded, as they always were even with the blockage of carriage stated by the military in act of investigation the demon dog's last spotting. Merchants did what they did best. Stalls were open and Children ran through alleys laughing. It was all so... normal. So ordinary. It was as if the world had not changed. As if her friends had not died.
As if nothing had happened at all.
But Petra saw the newspapers. She saw the headlines, and they certainly were not quenching down people's concern. As if on cue, she saw a man that owned a fish vendor looking conflicted as he read through his own copy of the newspapers.
No matter how much everybody tried to pretend, the cracks were already showing.
She walked without really much thought, her feet subconsciously carrying her through the familiar streets she grew up in while trying to ignore the ache on her arm.
Tina had been her bunkmate and closest friend in the Cadet corps. They had trained together, laughed together, shared rations, gossips and reams. Ever since the incident, Petra had not seen her since the attack. Had not spoken to her. Had not even thought to check on her. By coincidence, they happen to live in the same area around Trost.
Tina had given her an address where she lived with her grandmother; her parents had died years ago, and the old woman had raised her alone.
The house was fairly old and quite small, and the smell of baking bread wafted from within.
Petra knocked. The door swung open, and an elderly woman stood there, her face creased with wrinkles. She squinted at Petra, cautious of the stranger in front of her.
"Yes? Who are you?"
"It's Petra, ma'am. Petra Ral. I'm a friend of Tina's."
The old woman's face lit up with recognition. "Ah, Petra! Yes, yes, I remember. Tina's spoken of you. You're in the Corps together, aren't you?"
"That's right." Petra forced a smile. "I was hoping to see Tina. Is she home?"
The old woman's expression shifted, looking more solemn. "She's in her room. She's been... quiet. Since she came back from the training grounds. Very quiet. Won't eat much. Won't talk much. Just sits in her room all day, staring at the walls." She shook her head. "I don't know what to do anymore. Perhaps you can help her."
Petra's heart clenched. "I'll try."
The old woman stepped aside, letting Petra in. The old woman gestured toward a narrow staircase at the back of the hallway.
"She's up there. Second door on the left. Be gentle with her, dear. She's fragile."
"I will."
Petra climbed the stairs as her footsteps creaked on the worn wood. As she reached the second door on the left.
She heard…Mutters? They were too low to make out the words.
Petra's hand froze on the door handle. The murmur just kept repeating a stream of words that made no sense. And beneath it, a creak. A strain of wood.
"Tina?"
The mumurs didn't stop. She had a bad feeling about this.
Wasting no time, the almond haired girl pushed the door open. And by the walls, what she saw horrified her.
Tina was standing on a chair in the middle of the room even as she was shaking. A rope was tied to the ceiling beam above her, with a crude noose at its end. The chair was positioned perfectly, and she was swaying slightly, already lost in whatever dark place her mind had taken her. She was worsening the wound on her leg, but the girl couldn't care any less. Her entire appearance was completely disheveled from her hair down to her clothes. And Her eyes were glassy, staring ahead at nothing.
She didn't seem to notice Petra's presence.
"TINA!"
"I'm sorry," Tina was busy murmuring, over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
Petra moved without thinking. She lunged forward, grabbing Tina's waist just as the chair tipped backward. The chair clattered against the floor, and Tina cried out, her hands clawing at Petra's arms.
"Let me go! Let me go! I want to die! I want to die!"
"No!" Petra's voice was raw, desperate. "No, Tina, I won't let you!"
She dragged her friend backward, away from the rope, away from the chair. Tina fought her, thrashing and kicking, she also used her bandaged leg to slam against Petra's ribs as she refused to watch her take her life. Petra held on, her arms locked around Tina's waist, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
"Grandma! GRANDMA, PLEASE HELP!"
The old woman's footsteps echoed on the stairs, slow and unsteady. "Dear. What's happening? I heard noises."
"Call for help! Tina is not well! Help me do something!"
The old woman appeared in the doorway, her face pale with shock. She took one look at the scene, at the rope, at her granddaughter thrashing in Petra's arms, and let out a wail of despair.
"Oh, my dear child! My dear, dear child!"
"Go! Please, just go!"
The old woman entered the room and with surprising burst of strength pulled down the rope, ignoring the small of ceiling that came with it. Before joining Petra holding Tina down.
"Dear, it's grandma. Please stop, I beg you."
It took several minutes before Tina struggled died down. Too weak to fight back or take her life.
"Grandma?" Tina's voice came out hoarse.
The old lady placed her shaking hands on her only grandchild's head to sooth her broken mind. "Shh, shh. It's okay. I am here for you."
Petra didn't remember when she was hyperventilating, trying to keep her breathing controlled. Tina was limp in her and her grandmother's grips, breathing coming out in ragged gasps.
"I'm sorry," Tina whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking. I'm just... so tired."
Petra held her friend tighter, her own tears spilling down her cheeks, her grip tightening as if she could anchor Tina to life by sheer force of will.
"I know," she whispered back. "I know."
The three all sat there on the cold floor, surrounded by the wreckage around the room, and they all cried together.
Early access to chapters/uninterrupted chapters already available on Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom.