I've always known what hell feels like. It's when nothing seems to matter anymore. Pain is the only thing you can feel or think about. It invades your every waking moment. There is no sleeping. Just torturous dark hours.
I first felt this when my parents were killed. And then when I had to leave my sister to die in prison and be recruited in to Section, a place I'll never escape from.
I felt it when Simone died. Both times. When that little baby we had together was killed. When my dreams were haunted by my suspicion that it was because of Section he died.
I'm visiting hell again. This time, I don't think I'll ever be able to leave. I'm trapped.
I sense I deserve it. Because of this, I'm helpless to try and escape. There's no use anyway.
I'm dead to my son. I'll never see him again.
It's his birthday today. He thinks I'm in the ground. He's in no mood for a birthday party. I'm ruining his life. This will scar him forever.
My fault.
This is my hell.
There's only one thing making it worse. That could possibly make it worse.
Nikita is hanging around. She's worried about me. She's down below, standing guard at the gates. She thinks I don't know. That I haven't noticed. I do.
She hasn't slept in as many days as I haven't. I'm hurting her too.
I don't know how. I really can't understand it.
She knows now. She knows my big, Section kept secret.
I was married. Past tense.
I'm dead to my family.
I thought the knowledge of having a family would destroy Nikita. It seemed to make her crumble. To make her hurt. It certainly caused me enough pain.
She's guarding my doors to make sure I don't die. I don't care either way. Guns are starting to look quite good again.
Nikita cares. She still loves me. She proves it every night.
She can't fool me. I can see through my own pain just enough to see that she has symptoms of hurt as well. Still, she wants to be my salvation. My escape from this fiery hell. The one person I can go to. To depend and trust.
Some part of me still functions enough to tell me I want it too.
But I can't. Not yet. I've made her wait so long. And still, it has to go on.
I feel too numb. This time, the scars are too deep to recover from any time soon.
Her faith in me is overwhelming. It almost gives me a faint glimmer of hope. Almost.
She reminds me that I still have some emotion left. Something that registers other than anguish.
I love her with everything I have in me. I have no soul. There's little heart left.
But I love her with everything that's still there.
One day, maybe I'll be able to offer her the little I have.
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