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It all repeats again.
She is having a panic attack again.
She is asking me to leave again.
Stat doesn't want to talk about the past. She keeps pretending that she doesn't need communication or support.
Our communication seems strange to me. She doesn't understand my jokes and doesn't tell me anything about herself. I don't even know if she told me her real name. However, I like this strangeness.
She seems to be the only one who I'm trying to seriously talk to.
I like her offensive sarcasm and terrible character.
She looks as if she came from a typical anime about wondergirls in Japanese uniform. A sick internet hero obviously isn't the one she dreamt about.
However, she is still talking with me somehow.
It was in the morning, in the afternoon or in the evening? Nobody pays attention to the time in a place created to escape the reality.
Casper often silently spectates how Stat cleans up her floor and fixes her car after the invasion of so called «vandals». And this day wasn't an exception. Infected is heading to her floor once again, perhaps, even without a warning. Was it a mistake or not? Doesn't matter, but Stat obviously didn't want this to happen.
The elevator doors open.
Floor «Domain Stat».
Here's this narrow, derealization-causing bridge and a turned on button.
One press on the button and the enormous gate opens.
Stat is sitting on the stairs, which lead to the computer. Her hands are shaking, gripping on the handrail. Is she choking?
Do you remember your mother? Or when was the last time you celebrated your birthday? Your sister liked to make some tea, you two liked walking outside together.
— NO, SHUT UP.
A big lump was stuck in her throat. Gulping air became almost impossible. Her head was spinning like crazy and the walls started to close. A horrible fear was strangling her slowly, whispering things she doesn't want to remember right into her ear.
And it didn't stop.
You've changed so much. Would your friends be proud to see that stupid selfish person you've become? Everyone who you've seen in the elevator hates you. Think about it yourself, what kind of person would be content with this kind of attitude to themselves? Everyone is so nice to you, and you throw mud in their faces. Freaking hypocrite, a death in agony is the only thing you deserve.
She wanted to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth.
Her voice treacherously dissappeared.
The walls were closing.
Her head was spinning even more and the ringing in her ears was silencing all other sounds.
Her vision was blurred from cold tears. Her knees were shaking terribly. Stat was clinging on her hair with both hands, ripping out shreds of hair from her head. She often tries to silence the mental pain with the physical. Stat is afraid of death, not pain. Light braids were falling on her blu skirt.
Casper's heart stopped for a second. A horrible fear hit him.
It was hard for the infected to see such a situation.
At the same moment he ran up to her and held her hand. Her palm was wet and was shaking terribly.
Stat's big, shocked and red fell on Infected. She met his gaze, which was showing strong worry.
He hugged her shoulders. She gripped on his body.
Tears were running down her cheeks.
The infected hugged her harder:
— You're not alone.
Stat couldn't answer. She could only whimper loudly. The anxious thoughts disappeared and her head stopped spinning. She just wanted to calm down now and not to remember this situation ever again.