Farewell
Everyone studied The Story of Solomon in school. They had read The Book of Shhh front to back until we had it memorized. At first, people didn't understand why they had to include it in there. But there were some who did. The Sympathizers, the Invalids, people who had come to love. They story explains why love makes you crazy.
And that's why Alex knew it was the only way to tell Lena the truth.
He scrawled the note he planned to leave, shaky hands clutching the piece of paper in the middle of the night. The Story of Solomon, it said, is the only way I know how to explain. He placed it beside her bed, hoping she'll get it when she woke up. Hoping she understood yet hoping she wouldn't. Alex wanted her to be happy, and the only way for her to be is for him to leave. He knew that. Alex knew that what he was doing would be the best thing for her in the end. So she wouldn't have to make a choice. So she wouldn't have to hurt seeing someone else hurt. So she could love Julian.
Alex's eyes stung. The old Lena is dead, her voice whispers in the back of his mind. And she was right, he could see the way the Wilds had changed her. The Wilds changed everyone, hardened them in ways no one could imagine. She no longer looked like the Lena that sat with him at 37 Brooks, a smile spread wide across her face. She never fluttered her eyes on the brink of sleep, an action that left Alex itching to know what she was thinking about. She had hard edges now, every where; her cheekbones, elbows, knees.
He turned to leave, grabbing a small back he had packed himself.
The old Alex was dead, too. Hardened by the Crypts and the torture he endured there, created a shell around his emotions. Except no one forgets the past; Alex lives in brief dreams of it. And then shadowy fingers reach up and pull him into this nightmare of a world.
God, I'm pitying myself, his voice echoes in his mind. Alex knew there was no going back to the past.
The door closed quietly behind him, his feet crunched on snow as he walked. The wind bit at him, moonless night chilling his bones. Alex didn't know where he was going, he had no map, but he didn't care. He'd end up somewhere soon, a homestead or a place to sleep.
Dead, he reassured himself. He can't let go from the past, but he can run away from it. From her.