Chapter Forty-One

“Explain everything,” Agnes said with deliberation. Although her crossbow lay next to her, she rested her hand on top of it. I felt Nina tense up. I could tell that she was thinking about what to say. The thoughts of this world began to flow through my head. Nina mentioned that she didn’t see a lot of people, but I knew that wouldn’t stop people from spreading rumors. I thought back to my time in high school. Dawn managed to turn the whole school against me by herself with just a few choice words. There’s nothing to say to make me think that there wouldn’t be someone like that wandering the world out here. I braced for the words Nina began to speak.

“How many people have you talked to?” Nina asked.

“You aren’t explaining the situation,” Agnes snapped back, moving the crossbow closer to her.

“It will help you understand it. It’s hard to believe something you never thought you’d see, and I doubt you will take my words at face value.” Agnes looked away before returning her gaze back at Nina.

“Not too many. I set these traps to take things I like from others, but I don’t find a lot. Since I’ve started, I’ve only seen four others, and out of those, I’ve only talked to two of them.”

“Did you enjoy talking to them?” Agnes paused, holding the word she had in her mouth. She looked around as her face started to grow a familiar shade of red.

“How is that supposed to help me? What kind of questions are these?”

“I see. One of theme helped you,” Nina said with a quiet voice. “And the other…”

“Stop talking!” Agnes said as she stood up, crossbow in hand. Her volume was the same as earlier, but the venom in her tone told me there was something else. My body tried to stop Nina from continuing, holding its arms in front of her.

“No problem,” I whispered to it. “Trust.”

“The other hurt you,” Nina said looking down.

“I won’t tell you again!” Agnes screamed. I saw the glimmer in her eyes match the shakiness of her voice. “Just tell me why that thing isn’t hurting me or you!”

“Would you do the same things to the person who helped you as you did to the person who hurt you? I wouldn’t. It’s not right, and that’s what’s happening here. This zombie had the power to help me, in a world where every zombie wants to hurt me and chose to do so. It’s only right to help her out as well.”

“That doesn’t explain why it didn’t hurt you in the first place!”

“Would you be able to explain why that person was nice to you?” Agnes stopped, as her skipped heartbeat reverberated through us. Her crossbow lowered on its own as Agnes’s stance softened.

“How,” she said her voice now weaker. “How did you know all of that?”

“Because you were telling me. You wanted someone else to know, because maybe they could tell you why that person was helpful to you, or why that other person hurt you.”

I watched, breathless, as Nina picked Agnes apart. It was clear that she knew how to talk to people, but to be this good in a world where one might not see another person their entire lives was incredible.

“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” Nina said, focusing her eyes on Agnes. “We’ll stay here and listen to you.” Agnes gripped onto her crossbow, with enough force to make it tremble. She was looking down, unsure of what to do in response of Nina’s words. She looked to the left and right before kneeling back down and facing us once again.

“One sign,” Agnes said with a fierce voice. “A single sign that you aren’t taking me seriously and I’ll shoot, no hesitation.” Nina nodded and let her continue. Agnes took her time, making sure we burned her glare into our heads. There was no more teasing now. We sat there and watched Agnes, waiting for the right moment to start.

“No one has ever been with me. I remember little things, like people giving me food and others pinching me to make sure I was still alive when I wouldn’t stand up. But there was never anyone who talked to me. I would watch as different people would come and go, never seeing them again, and wondered if I’d have do the same. I stayed with those people who gave me food until they told me to leave. I didn’t want to go. Not because I wanted to stay with them, but because I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know where anyone went.

They didn’t say anything to me. I thought I was fine, because they had never said anything to me before. But I felt something inside me, that wanted them to say something. I was angry at them for leaving me, but I felt that I couldn’t do anything. So, I chose a direction and started walking. I kept walking, wanting to see something different. But everything was always the same. I walked and walked until I found some walls. I ran to them because it was something different. I looked around at all the things I had never seen, and then I found it.” She reached behind her and pulled out a pink book. She held it in her hands, looking down at it.

“The Pretty Pink Princess and Her Pretty Pink Pony,” she said, a smile forming on her face. She looked at Nina and hid the smile away. “It didn’t matter if I knew what the book was telling me. I looked at the pictures and saw how the people there treated the princess. The only thing I wanted after seeing it was to be the princess in this book. I saw how the princess was always higher than everyone else, so I made holes to stand above others. I saw how other people always gave the princess things so I decided to take things from anyone who might have fallen in. I saw how everyone would call her ‘Princess’, so I decided to make every person that fell call me that. I couldn’t wait until I caught someone.

I knew immediately that the first person who fell down the hole was different. I remember his face when he saw me standing over him. It was different to the faces of the people who gave me food. I liked it. It made me feel nice. He acted as if being down a hole didn’t bother him. When I pointed to the word ‘princess’ on the book, he knew to call me that. When I pulled out my hand, he gave me the little things that he had. And when he was able to get out, he stayed with me. He taught me everything he knew about this place. He taught me how to say the words in the book. He would say the words, and he would have me say the words, over and over again until I got it right. I felt good when he did that.

I wanted to stay next to him. It felt like he was giving me something that I needed, something that would keep me alive. I don’t know what it was, and I still don’t. But when he was there, he would give it to me. When I learned the words in the book, he would teach me new ones. I knew the word ‘pretty’, but he was the one who taught me ‘cute.’ I knew the word ‘distant’, but he was the one who taught me close. I knew the word ‘name’, but he was the one who taught me ‘Agnes’.” She pushed the book further into her chest. “But I don’t remember a lot of them now. I remember other things though. He would hold out his hand and place it on my face. It was big and rough, but I felt so safe when it was there. I would hold out my hand and place it on his face, and I would laugh when I saw his face. I couldn’t help it. It was instant, and out of my control. But it also felt good. It felt right.”

But one day, he told me to stop. He told me that he was leaving, and that he wasn’t going to see me again. And that the only thing he wanted to see when he left is for me to stop acting like a princess. ‘It’s going to hurt you,’ he said. I didn’t believe him. Why would I? He played along. Everyone else was going play along too. I was angry at him. He was going to leave me, and he was going to take away everything he gave me. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I didn’t want to hold his hand or listen to him talk. ‘If you want to leave, then leave!’ I remember yelling at him. I wanted him to look like I did, angry and loud. But I didn’t see that. I saw his face, and it felt so familiar. I could see myself in his eyes. He tried to hold my hand one more time, but I pushed him away. I hated what I felt when I did that, even back then. I knew it was wrong, but it was the only thing that felt right.” We saw Agnes trembling, the force she used on the book spreading throughout her body. “I want to see him again. I want to scream out that I want to see him again. I want to hold his hand and listen to him when he teaches me new things. I want him to put his hand on my face, and look me in the eyes, and tell me that I’m going to be okay, even when he isn’t saying anything. But he’s not here. And the only thing here is a girl who wants him back.”