Post by Junkrat on Feb 13, 2017 1:05:25 GMT
There was a dark cloud hanging over his head as he laid in bed, facing up at the ceiling despite the prickle of pain in his back. The knife hadn't cut deep, but there was still a noticeable pain there, or there should have been, but Mido was numb to it, numb to everything. It felt like he'd forgotten how to feel the moment he collapsed, ready to face his own death, against the pavement. The rest of the encounter had been a blur, someone had swooped in to assist, he thought it may have been Chuki, and before he even managed to register that he wasn't dead, they were home.
Realizing how willingly he was ready to give himself up like that made a hollow cavern in his gut, and he still wasn't sure how to process it. There was a heavy sigh from him as he lifted a hand to run through his messy hair, now cut in a very short and uneven way. He wasn't even all that upset about that, but he couldn't get that sick helpless feeling out of his head, being held down with a knife waving inches from his face, he lifted a hand to run over the bandage, closing his eyes tight to bite back the tears that were finally threatening to overcome him.
He'd never wanted Fareeha to see him that way, helpless and accepting of what felt inevitable. His reasons for giving up had been largely to give her a chance to escape, but his words at the time had also been true, there were parts of him tired of living in a place where he would never fit, feeling like nothing but a shape being forced hard into a hole that it just didn't fit into. There were places in him, dark holes, that thought sometimes that maybe it would be better if he was gone, or if he'd just never existed at all, because he was merely a liability now. A liability that had nearly gotten his sister killed.
Realizing how willingly he was ready to give himself up like that made a hollow cavern in his gut, and he still wasn't sure how to process it. There was a heavy sigh from him as he lifted a hand to run through his messy hair, now cut in a very short and uneven way. He wasn't even all that upset about that, but he couldn't get that sick helpless feeling out of his head, being held down with a knife waving inches from his face, he lifted a hand to run over the bandage, closing his eyes tight to bite back the tears that were finally threatening to overcome him.
He'd never wanted Fareeha to see him that way, helpless and accepting of what felt inevitable. His reasons for giving up had been largely to give her a chance to escape, but his words at the time had also been true, there were parts of him tired of living in a place where he would never fit, feeling like nothing but a shape being forced hard into a hole that it just didn't fit into. There were places in him, dark holes, that thought sometimes that maybe it would be better if he was gone, or if he'd just never existed at all, because he was merely a liability now. A liability that had nearly gotten his sister killed.
