The Exodus Quest

III

As long as she could remember, Lily had struggled with thoughts of killing herself. Mostly they were just blinks, gone as quickly as they'd arrived, locked safely back in their box. But sometimes the thoughts wouldn't leave. They'd stay with her for hours, days, even weeks. They'd build and build until she'd think she'd never get through to the other side. Whenever it got too much, she'd hurry to some place of sanctuary, lock out the world, let the tears come. I wish I were dead, she'd yell. I wish I were fucking dead. And she'd mean it too. At least, her wish for oblivion felt sincere. But she'd never done much about it, other than edge near the platform as trains hurtled past, or stare hungrily up at the top-floor balconies of high-rises.

The water was coming down as relentlessly as ever. Lily was kneeling throat-deep on the mound, her arms around Gaille, supporting her head on her shoulder, allowing the rest of her to float. The chill had long-since penetrated right into her bones, so that every so often she'd break into violent shudders.

Strange childhood memories. Standing in the shadows outside a party, trying to summon the courage to knock. Her neck burning at half-heard remarks. A stray dog she'd once seen, trapped in a garden by two callous young boys so they could throw stones at it, how she'd ducked her head and hurried past, scared of what they'd say if she tried to intervene. How those whimpers and yelps had haunted her for days, a stain upon her soul. Her whole life dictated by her birthmark, a birthmark that didn't even exist any more.

'I'm not like that,' she yelled out at the darkness. 'I'm not fucking like that, okay? That's not how I was made.'

It was one thing to think about death in the abstract. There was something noble, romantic, even vindicating in the prospect. But the real thing wasn't like that. All it provoked was terror. Another set of shivers wracked through her. She clenched her eyes in an effort not to cry, tightened her grip around Gaille. She'd never believed in God, she'd always felt too bitter with the world. But others did, people she respected, and maybe they knew what they were talking about. Beneath the water, her hands clasped tight. Just let me live, she begged silently. I want to live. I want to live. Please God, I want to live.