It's Our Last Chance to Feel Again

KATHERINE

I couldn't recall being brought back to a house.

I couldn't recall leaving the woods at all.

My father. That was all that stayed in my mind. The image of him. The image of my father.

My father dying. My father dying for me.

It burned to think about it, it killed to try and forget.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do now. I had no idea what I should've done. I couldn't do anything back there. I didn't...

He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be gone.

No, he wasn't.

Of course he was alive. He was my father. He hadn't died fourteen years ago. He couldn't be dead now.

But I saw him. His blood. My blood. Our blood. Our heart.

No, he couldn't have died. He didn't. Hadn't.

Never.

I knew what I was falling into.

No, I wasn't falling into anything. I wasn't doing anything to myself. I was just-

Stop it. No. I had to fight. I had to fight the darkness that beckoned me. I had to fight the darkness that wanted me.

But the darkness was my friend. The darkness had always been my friend. I had to fight the red. The piercing, slashing red that needed me.

No, I had to break out of this hut. I had to find the light. I had to find a light. I had to find my father.

But he was dead. He died. He was. He did. He had.

Right?

I felt a pull. A pull at my heart. At his heart.

Nothing covered me. Only darkness. Only me. Only him. Only us.

I felt a tug, a scratch, a grab, and I tried. I tried to squirm away. I tried to resist.

But it came anyway. It cloaked me, drowned me in that burning red.

Yet it couldn't be possible. They couldn't coexist. Not in me. Not in him.

Red, or black. Exposed, or clothed. It was an ultimatum, and I knew one had to go or I'd sink into both.

My fists clamped shut. They were fighting. The red and black wanted dominance. One was going to lose, the other claiming victory.

I didn't want either to win. I didn't want either to lose. I didn't want anything. Only my father. Only him.

He would make this pain go away. He'd know what to do. I needed him. I wanted him. I had to have him.

The red clawed on mercilessly, and my fingers gnawed into the soft flesh of my palm.

The black dodged swiftly, and I curled into a ball.

It hurt. It hurt far too much.

He couldn't have died.

But there was blood.

He had to be in the hospital.

But his body had been torn apart.

He was just getting stitches.

But he was devoured.

No.

Yes.

No! It had to be a lie. A nightmare. A tale.

But what if it wasn't?

With every thought, with every denial, every acceptance, every exclamation, every question, I felt myself being lost. I felt my body being pulled down.

Down into a mass sea of red that arose from the pitch black surroundings. Down into where the pain intensified. Down into the impossible. Down into insanity.

The descend was slow, but it was consistent. I knew I couldn't avoid it. I knew the decision was in my hands. And I knew that there would be no victor.

Unless I tried. Unless I wanted there to be.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the final plunge. The last thought that would bring me to the bottom of my existence. The last thought that would end everything I knew. The last thought that would begin the mental and emotional torture.

With the end of my mind in sight, I readily let go of everything. My breath, my will, my life, my body.

And then, I fell.

"Katherine!"

Or at least, I tried to.

"What the fuck is wrong wi- Kat! Are you okay?"

This wasn't supposed to be happening. I was supposed to be gone. There wasn't supposed to be a voice. There wasn't supposed to be a resistance.

"Oh geez, Kat?!"

But this wasn't just a resistance. This was a float. This was my float. My float and my light. The light.

I was rising. Rising fast, rising painlessly. The red was grabbing for me, the black still welcoming. But I couldn't go back. I wouldn't go back. I had to keep going up.

"Katherine, sweetie, can you hear me?"

Of course I could. Of course, of course, of course. I was picking up momentum. I was picking up speed. I was leaving the pain behind, and making my way forth to a different sort of pain. The pain that was real.

The red that stretched and shrieked was catching up, and I knew in the instant I had risen that I had made my choice. The victor had been decided, and though I knew it would hurt, I felt myself continue the ascend.

I could live with it. I would live with it. I'd live.

"Katherine?"

I was there! Right there, and I was coming. I was going straight for the wall that was now beginning to take form. I was going straight for the wall that stood tall and strong. I was going straight for the wall that separated us.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, knowing I'd hit the wall soon.

However, what I hadn't known was how much it launching myself straight into it would've hurt me. I stumbled back, the red scratching at my clothed back, cutting a would deep into me.

I couldn't give up, but I wanted to. The wall hadn't so much as shook, much less cracked, and it stood instead, as tall and proud as ever.

I took more steps back, wincing as the red was finally right beside me, and took four steady steps forward before attacking the wall once again.

Still no crack, and still a wounded will.

Falling would've been easier, falling would've required less effort.

I stumbled back drunkenly, hurt and bruised, but still somewhat determined. I didn't like to lose. I didn't want to lose.

My arms were stretched, my legs were kicking, but the wall showed only one insignificant crack that I knew wouldn't weaken the wall in the least.

Slumping down, I felt the red shrink back into the black that was now slinking forth.

No...

"Kat...?"

That last call. That last, desperate attempt. That gave me the strength to breakthrough. To hurl myself with every breath, every muscle, every thought, every will, at the wall that I had to get past.

And it was with a final scream, a final shriek of bliss that I surfaced with the baggage of loss heavy in me. The red had won.

"Oh, my God Katherine!"

I felt myself being enveloped in a hug, and as I breathed a sigh of relief and pain, I inhaled a familiar scent. Curiosity tugged at my sleeve, but I ignored it. I was too weak for there to be a way for me to find out who had saved me. All I knew, as I looked around, was that I was in an unfamiliar room with incredibly plain walls.

As the person wrapped their arms tighter around my frail and lifeless body, my arms stayed feeble at my sides, not reciprocating the gratefulness or warmth my hero was so obviously expressing.

Eventually, the person pulled apart and I took in a breath of surprise when I found myself looking directly in Jacob Black's concerned eyes.

It was without hesitation that I allowed myself to fall into him, letting myself go at the same time.

I needed him to keep me alive.