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Case after case, the safety of millions of people in the city in her hands, everything happening in the blink of an eye. They were uncertain, the world was changing, everything was uncertain. She wanted her family safe and sound, but it was a hard thing for someone doing the job like hers. She surely would be the first to step forward and save the day. But she had no control over that to make sure it didn't happen, which drove her crazy.
The world was made up of uncertainties, everything was changing so fast. “Do what you can, and leave the rest to fate. ” She'd heard that many times before.
However, she could make one thing certain.
One thing.
It sent chills down her spine, and while she marveled at how absurd the idea was, on second thought, she felt it was somewhat reasonable.
“ I wanted to end my life. ” Isobel raised her head and looked at the doctor.
-three days ago-.
She sat on the open ground, flashes of lightning illuminating the jets of rainwater that poured along the tips of her curly hair, landing on her already soaked blazer.
She didn't know how to describe that feeling; she was spinning, she was sinking inward, sinking into a black hole formed around herself.
Her hands were cold, her head hurt, her legs were numb, but she couldn't move. She wanted to, but somehow she couldn't; her cell phone was in her left pocket, but somehow she couldn't reach for it; the nearest shelter was just ten paces away, but somehow she couldn't get up.
Why? Why? Was she redeeming herself, she wondered, or was she enjoying this? Isobel struggled to raise her head, looking up at the flickering sky, pondering whether the next bolt of lightning would bring her life to an end. Were the several struggles she had had on the line of life and death in vain? Was she seeking death?
As her perspective rotated, she heard the dull thud of her body hitting the ground before her ears tinnitus. The splash faded quietly, as did her future fate.
-present-
When she woke up in the hospital three days later asking why she was here, the doctor called in a psychiatrist after a detailed examination of her condition.
“ You can call me Lena. do you remember anything? ” Isobel shook her head.
“ Well, what about any feelings? ” Lena asked softly after taking a few notes.
Isobel looked down at the heated blanket covering her body and rubbed the catheter in her hand. She could feel it now. she could feel the warm liquid flowing into her vein in the back of her hand, the bedpan was hard, the mattress was thin, the sheets were rough, and the noisy chirping of various instruments was distracting. Despite being wrapped in a thick heated blanket, she felt nothing but strangeness, indifference and numbness.
“ ...Black, endless black. ” Her ears were buzzing. She closed her eyes for a while, trying to overcome the vertigo.
Lena slowly told her about the discovery while observing her reaction. To the doctor in front of her, she was just another patient, a hypothermic who had passed out after sitting on the floor for half an hour in the rain. A fool not worth wasting time over.
The thoughts came like a tidal wave. It was like she was separated by a thick barrier in between, unable to truly experience the feelings at that moment. A few strands of thoughts emerged in her mind, so foolish that she was almost on the verge of opening her mouth to taunt herself.
She could make up falsehoods, a basic skill as an agent, and Isobel's poker face, honed over the years, had allowed her to fool polygraphs, drug lords she'd come into contact with while undercover. Tricking the doctor in front of her was just a piece of cake. But in the end, she just couldn't deceive herself. She was tired and didn't want to cover up such matters any longer, bracing herself to say she was fine, when in reality she was just cowering in a cold corner shedding tears through night after night.
“ I wanted to end my life. ” Isobel looked up at the window, it was a nice sunny day.
“ That's just stupid, isn't it? ” She bristled, “ It was just a flash in the pan, I don't even understand why I would think that way. I love my life, and it's my job to defend everyone's lives. ” With her right hand she lifted the collar of her hospital gown down a little, revealing the pink scar just below the side of her collarbone, “ It was so close to an artery, the doctors back then informed that the survival rate was only 50%, but I survived, I'm tenacious as hell. ”
Even now, on rainy days, the right wrist where she signed papers still ached. For twenty years, she has witnessed all kinds of physical and emotional injuries to people. The stab wounds, burns, and gunshot wounds at the scene were fresh in her mind...She has lost count of times of her leaving the victim's home, carrying the family's suffering from shock to grief. They will never disappear; they will just accumulate day by day, like an invisible hand, gradually immersing you in the darkness of society. The brilliance of human hope eventually fades away in the swaying of the wind.
This job not only brought her pain, but also the people around her, what a selfish behavior. She saw the people who loved her died because of her, and the people she loved couldn't maintain long-term relationships because of the vigilance brought by her profession. She was an invisible bomb. Yes, it was a factor that should have been accepted when she chose this career, but she pondered if she hadn't dove headlong into Quantico back then in a single-minded attempt to resist her father's wishes to study law, perhaps she would have chosen a different path.
She was silent for a while; if all her wounds hadn't healed over the years, she would just be covered in blood and wouldn't have survived for more than five minutes. It was absurd to think about that, but it was a scene that appeared in her dreams almost every day: when she stepped into the JOC, what she saw was Elise with a time bomb hanging around her neck, maggie had collapsed into a coma from sarin gas, and everyone else had bullet holes blotting out in fresh red. There were still bloody handprints sliding down the glass door. Those eyes that hadn't rested in peace were covered in a gray shadow, and wherever she went, they were looking at her. Vargas had left a letter to her, shackled with chains weighing a thousand pounds and carrying countless souls. He was going to make her feel what it was like to be the sole survivor, and all of this, was all her fault.
It is not true. She murmured to herself, but, God, that part was so real, throbbing. That panic, mixed with pain and guilt, as if it was going to burst out of her chest in the next second. She was merely struggling in vain against a vortex that was slowly consuming her.
“ I don't want to die, but sometimes, it's so hard to carry so much, even with every breath. Maybe I'm just tired. ” Isobel sighed. She knew that she wouldn't be able to return to this job. They wouldn't approve of someone in an unstable emotional state taking command of high-risk activities. The position she had climbed to with all her life's efforts was nothing but a castle in the air. Twenty years was not the beginning of a new era, but the end of an old one.
The last petal on the tree outside the window was torn through countless holes. With a gust of wind, it was ruthlessly pulled off the branch. The pale yellow trail seemed to be its last dance, struggling feebly in the air for a few moments before landing on the windowsill. Whether she wanted to or not, she would eventually BE retired, dragging her tattered shell into the grave with the shackles of the countless souls on her body.
If everything were to start all over again, would she still make that choice?