Soon winter began to creep over the mountains, shrouding our basin in snow. As the world began to freeze, my body continued to thaw. Each day brought new discoveries, I found myself introduced to startling new limits.
My right arm was so severely damaged that I might never again be able to raise it above my shoulder. Slivers of shrapnel had been embedded into my back, some so close to my spine that they couldn't be removed without risking permanent paralysis.
I struggled to find a balance between the pain and the disorientation of the pain-killers. In order to function, I had to sustain this nearly debilitating affliction. The only thing I looked forward to was an opportunity to sneak away and swallow a handful of relief.
Along with that satisfaction, came the shame. Each day I asked these people to be stronger than they thought possible, to push themselves with no regard for the pain. Meanwhile, I could not bear my own. Gradually, the humiliation lessened as I became capable once more. I dreaded the kindness of my peers, I did not want their sympathy or their help. I did not need someone to cart me around like a dog who'd broken his leg.
I felt like a ghost, watching some strange world from the outside. Every time someone opened a door or grabbed an item from atop a shelf, I seethed with anger. They looked to me as if I were their savior, yet treated me like a child.
I hated myself for the things I had done, for allowing my arrogance to take me this far. Jesse and Liz would never have a chance at a real life and now I had stolen that right from everyone in this town. This was my purgatory, I was trapped watching helplessly as I prepared these thirty fools to meet a violent death. I had become such a coward that I would allow Jesse to lead their futile charge into hell.
Hope was more dangerous than any weapon we possessed, it turned these daydreamers into nothing more than a hindrance. In their minds, hope had given them strength, making them invincible as long as they were righteous. In reality it had only given them a paintbrush, with which they would draw a target.
Chapter 29