Zenna's screaming again. She doesn't know when it starts and it never really seems to stop. It's like a continuous ringing in her ears that'll never go away. She doesn't know why her initial instinct but it might have something to do with the fact that she's still sobbing over her sisters dead body, feeling the stillness within her. It doesn't feel like she's dead, though. It feels like she's just taking a nap and she'll wake up in a couple hours and say something ridiculous that'll make them all laugh. But her blood is drenching her shirt and her face is as white as a sheet of paper and there's a hole where the knife went through that Zenna wishes she could close up and make everything okay again. She is blank and unreadable. Dead, dead, dead. They could have saved her. They could have, but they didn't.

Cale doesn't move. He's kind of just standing there, staring intently at the peeling wallpaper. You would have thought him dead too, if it wasn't for his stiffness. "You have to leave." He says this so quietly that she almost doesn't hear him.

"What?" she gapes at him, her tears falling into her mouth as she tries to process his words. His icy gaze cuts into hers like pinpricks. "Leave? Where do you want me to go?"

"You caused this fire, Zenna," he says in all seriousness. "This is all your fault! KATTIE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" he yells, his mouth the only part of him moving. The sight was even more terrifying than the villages turning to ash.

Zenna shakes her head, still slowly backing towards the door and away from her brother who's looking at her as if she were the next kill on their hunting list. "Cale, I don't understand," she blinks, trying to make sense of it, "I was with you all morning! How could I have—"

"ITWASYOUITWASYOUITWASYOU," he cuts her off and she lets out a small cry before dashing out the door, feeling weak and small and terrified. Never again will she let herself be afraid, she reminds herself over and over, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She's shaking violently again as she sits at what's left of the doorstep to the entrance of their home. She doesn't know what to think anymore. About Cale, her sister, her life. Everything used to be so clear to her; how she would wait until Kattie was old enough for the three of them to run away and find a place to live without their parents. They didn't need them, anyway. They never did. But now, now it's just like her grip on life is loosening and everything is slipping through her calloused fingertips as if she had been holding on to sand this whole time. Perhaps she had, perhaps this was all microscopic rocks joined together and called a life. Every milestone adding to her pile of sand.

Now, she doesn't know anymore.

She hears someone singing somewhere in the distance, the noise an echo in her mind like a mother's calling: soft and caring. It beckons her, drawing her in until she's drunk on it. She gets to her feet and follows the sound quietly, not wanting to make a sound and miss a beat. It wasn't until she was back in the villages that she realized the fire had stopped. She lifts her gaze and all she sees is ashes and debris and crying families. Her parents are not among them. She lets out a shaky breath and a hand warms her shoulder. At first she thinks it's Cale, back to make peace and explain what was going on with him, but when she turns to greet the man that belonged to the hand, her chest tightens. It's the boy who stopped her from running into the fire after her brother.

"What do you want?" she growls, not in the mood for making friends.

"I—I just," he stutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly making Zenna's face soften, "I wanted to see if you're okay. After you ran off like that—" he shakes his head. "You shouldn't have done that."

"You needn't worry about me," she declares, spite and bitterness still staining her voice. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. And besides, I don't even know your name." Zenna crosses her arms over her blood soaked top, her left eyebrow quirking up.

"My name. Right." He looks up at the ashy sky a moment, trying to remember his name.

"Elion!" someone—a woman—calls and he whirls around trying to find the source. A woman is running towards them, her hair a crazed white bob and her skirts are torn and burnt at the hem. Her blue eyes are puffy, as if she's been crying all afternoon. She wraps the boy—Elion—in a tight hug and resumes her weeping. "Oh my life, Elion. I thought I'd lost you!" she sobs and Elion stiffens at her touch, his arms staying at his sides.

Zenna, feeling completely out of place, starts backing away towards the voice in her head that grew louder by the minute. Before she can turn away completely, Elion stops her again.

"Wait," he says, pushing the woman off him and walking towards Zenna, heart still beating out of her chest. "I must see you again."

She frowns, "I'm afraid that won't be possible." Her head is pounding now with much more intensity, her vision blurring and making her dizzy. She found it difficult to stand upright. "Forgive me, but I do have to go now. And as do you, it should seem," she nods at the woman who was still standing patiently five paces back.

"You're running away, right?" he tilts his head to the side, inspecting her as if he were trying to figure out all her secrets. "Let me come with you," he looks back at the woman—his mother, she assumes, "Please. I can't stay here."

Her mouth hangs open slightly as she takes him in. This boy, only a couple years older than she, towering over her, and basically on his knees begging. But she couldn't accept even if she wanted to. She can't put any more people at risk. She can't get attached to anyone anymore. No one can be trusted, not even her brother. Some things in life were simply meant to be done alone. "I'm sorry," she shakes her head before turning to go.

"Please," he cries, moving to go after her but is stopped by his mother's claws on his arm, pulling him back. She slaps him across the face and mutters something like "what are you doing?" as her spit showers him. "Please!" he screams after her and Zenna quickens her speed, getting out of there as fast as possible. She should help him. She should go back and help him. He needs help.

It feels like her mind is on hyperactive overdrive and she can't feel any part of her body. She's completely buzzed, her head spinning and spinning and the whole world is spinning until she falls to her knees on a patch of blood, far enough away from Elion and Cale and Kattie's dead, dead body. Far enough away from the woods and what was meant to be her home but she never truly considered it a home because it brought her memories of drunken parents and days without food or water and blood. Cale was her only true home, but even he's turned on her.

It's all her fault. It's all her fault.

She screams again, just because it feels so goddamn good, and when she turns over, there's a face looming over her. It's that of a little girl, one with big grey eyes and pink lips, her brown hair tied back. She is covered in dirt, though Zenna can't imagine she looks any better herself. "Why are you screaming?" the girl asks, her voice pure and innocent. It made Zenna's ears hurt to listen to, as if she wasn't worthy enough to hear it.

Zenna opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Her hand goes instinctively to her throat as she tries again and again, but still nothing. The girl sat next to her, watching Zenna with what seems like amusement. Why isn't her voice working? Her eyes widen and she tries backing away, but the child is too fast. She places her hand on Zenna's cheek and the singing stops. Her eyes roll back into her head and everything goes black.