Young Writers Society

~1159

“Who were the other bodies at the funeral?” Everen asked.

Janna’s eyebrows drew together and she jerked her head back, surprised. “You didn’t know?”

“No. I was… incapacitated for about forty-eight hours.”

“You what!? Why? What happened?”

Everen heaved a deep sigh, but she didn’t know how to say it out loud.

When the silence stretched on, Janna stood up and walked to the cabinets set into the wall. “You must be starving,” she said, pulling out a ration pack.

“I am,” admitted Everen. She’d almost forgotten how hungry she was. It was like she’d reached a point where the hunger just felt numb. The idea of eating anything nauseated her, but that was one way she knew she should really probably eat something.

Janna paused halfway though stirring the mixture in the silvery ration pack. “Wait, please tell me you’ve had some water at least.”

Everen gave a small smile. “Yeah, I did. Don’t worry. I had a shower too. I was just on my way to find some food when I came upon the funeral. So… who were they?” she asked again, dreading the answer.

Janna was quiet for a moment. “Ptolemy and Haven,” she said at last, a quiver in her voice.

Everen knew that the news should upset her. Ptolemy was perhaps the most charismatic member of the communications team, and one of Everen’s favorite people to talk to. Haven was the head of the community division. She would have been in charge of administration of the society they’d build on their new planet. They were big losses, but it seemed as if Everen couldn’t adequately feel them. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

Janna walked back to Everen, holding out the steaming silver packet. It smelled like marinara sauce, and when Everen peeked at the label on the bag, she saw that it was supposed to be spaghetti. Everen could count on one hand the number of times she’d had to eat straight out of a ration pack. They had a cook/scientist on the ship, and while the food was mostly mediocre, at least it felt real, unlike the reconstituted pasta slumped in the thick silver plastic. Resigned to the sub-par food, Everen began to eat.

Once Janna saw that the bag was mostly emptied, she asked, “So must have been a pretty major ‘incapacitation’ if it prevented you from even eating for two days.” One of her eyebrows was raised in a question.

“Yeah, I guess.” Everen stared down at what was left of the ration. It was mostly the sauce-like substance, and it had gotten cold pretty quickly.

“Care to elaborate? Can I help you with anything?” Janna sat down next to Everen on the bed.

“I got bad news from home.” She pointed at her head.

Janna knew, of course, that any “news from home” could only come from one place, and that was Everen’s head, but she didn’t comment on that. Instead she said, “As if we haven’t had enough bad news. Everen, I’m so sorry that you’re the one that has to hear these things first. What happened? Is Abyssia alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Everen said dismissively. “It’s personal news. Family stuff. Don’t worry about the human race just yet.”

“Then what happened? With your family, I mean,” Janna said. Everen could tell that she was still trying to look concerned, but relief was written all over her face. Even if things were falling apart on the ship, at least everything back on Earth was doing relatively alright.

“We’re… we’re pretty sure that Shandi died.” The words felt hollow and fake on her tongue.

The relief on Janna’s face disappeared, replaced by genuine worry. “Oh no, that must be absolutely awful for you.” She leaned toward Everen to give her a small side-squeeze. “You must have been really sad to not have eaten for two days. I’m sorry if I’ve pressed too much. I could tell you were in shock, but I thought it was just at the new deaths. Everen, if I’d known–”

“It wasn’t the sadness.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t the sadness,” repeated Everen. “That wasn’t what made me incapacitated. It was the pain.”

“The pain? Like, heartbreak?” Janna looked genuinely confused.

Everen sighed again. “No, like, when she died,” she pointed at her head, “I could feel it. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. So much so that I must have blacked out for two days. I woke up on the floor of my room.”

Janna’s mouth hung agape as she processed what Everen was saying. Eventually, she must have cleared her thoughts enough to speak, because she said, “I can’t even imagine. The connection you have… I’d forgotten you could send sensations through it.”

“If they’re strong enough, sometimes they get sent accidentally,” Everen mumbled.

“Perhaps you now know what it feels like to die,” Janna whispered in a sort of terrified awe.

It was this statement that sent Everen over the edge. She felt her throat close up and unbearable pressure behind her eyes and in her head. She let out a strangled cry, and it wasn’t until she had taken several shuddering breaths that she was able to force out the words, “I miss her.”

Janna rubbed Everen’s back and made small consoling noises.

“I miss her. I miss her. She’s gone, gone gone.”

“Sh. Sh. Of course you miss her. You’ll be okay. Maybe not now, but eventually, you’ll be okay. Sh. Sh.”

“She didn’t even like me and now I can’t ever change that.” Everen was babble-crying now, but she didn’t even care. “I thought she would grow up a bit and then we’d all just put our past behind us but she’s dead and she never even liked me and now something’s missing it’s all just gone and missing, and, and, and–”

“Sh. Sh. Breathe, Everen. Even breaths.” Janna reached over to the side table and snatched a couple tissues from the box there. Everen took it with grateful hands, wiping at her tears, blowing her nose.

Everen took a minute or two to calm down, but eventually her breathing was somewhat even, although it did hitch occasionally. “I know it’s selfish of me,” she said quietly. “You and everyone else on the ship lost everyone a long time ago.”

“Perhaps,” Janna agreed. “But they died in their time. It feels like a time far removed from now. It feels like a story, a legend. Time is the healer of all wounds, they say. And we came to terms with it before we even stepped foot on this ship. No, I think you have it hardest out of anyone. I couldn’t care less about what’s happening to individuals in Abyssia. In a way I’m free, but you have these ties that must hurt every day, knowing you can never be with them again. Your tears are more than justified, Everen. And you’re stronger than I could ever be.”