Louise's Lament

"Hey, Louise?" Pieter says to me, a bit hollow, walking up to me. "Can I… How has your day been today?"

"Fine, why do you ask?" I respond, knowing with certainty that he's hiding something.

"Cooper died."

"What?" I say, nearly whispering, the word barely tumbling out of my mouth. It can't be true, it can't. That has to be… it can't be.

"Yeah…" He's lying, he has to be lying. I can feel my breathing getting heavier, shakier. God, this can't be happening. "We recovered his last words." Pieter pauses, and there's no way in hell Cooper said his last words. "Would you like to hear them?"

"Sure." My words feel stoic, but my heart is not. The words come out harshly but contradicting quiet. I can't pretend that I think this is real, yet I know that it is. It's true, isn't it? It doesn't feel real. It's not.

"Follow me," Pieter says, and my breathing, my lungs, my heart, my head, my face my mouth my

my

it hurts

my eyes are burning as I begin to take those few steps. My eyes begin to burn as I take those few steps, and sudden relief. Tears are flowing down my face, and my breathing is shaking, heavily. I know it is, but I know I'm not making a noise.

"Would you like to see him?"

"Yes," I whisper with a voice that's barely coherent, "yeah, I would." I look up into the sky and despite the fact that nothing could ever make the hurt go away; I clench my eyes shut. There is no sky though, and the pressure on my eyes don't help. I can tell my face is contorting into odd shapes, and I can feel it.

I feel it, the pain.

No, I can't describe it.

Pieter slows down a bit, noticing that I'm lagging behind. I can feel my quiet sniffling growing at every exhale, a slight whimper. I can feel my mouth, it's painfully numb, throbbing. I can feel my feet press down into the soles of my shoes at each step I make. I can feel the salty tears stream down my face, into my mouth and shedding down onto the ground. I can feel my hands awkwardly dangling at my side, and they start scrunching up into a fist. I can feel a warm weight on my shoulder. "He was…" He starts. "He died by himself, and although I'd like to say he wasn't in pain…" He stops. "I know it hurts, Louise. Nothing I say will make it easier."

I couldn't tell you where we're walking. I couldn't tell you the colors that I pass by on the way there. It's not even a blur, I saw them but it doesn't matter at all.

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