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66.66% Class War

Chapter 16: Chapter 8 Part II

I know that she will commit suicide one way or another, and I accepted it. But I never expected it to be this soon.

She was as fresh as daisy when I left her alone in this room. She's even bouncing off the walls and has a vibrant expression on her face as she consumes her meal.

So how did it turn out like this?

I opened the door and an outburst of smoke slammed to my face.

The fumes flooded the room. I can barely see the insides through the thick gas.

I lifted my shirt over to my nose and pushed forward inside the room.

I bravely dove in the fog, blindly searching for the vents.

The vents were located near the porthole, so I pressed my hands against the wall and made my way through the flank.

My hands guided me to the sides of the room until I touched a cold metal. I stopped, realizing that it's the ring of the porthole.

I scanned near that area and after scrambling my hands everywhere, I finally found it.

I flipped the switch, opening the vents. Some gases already flowed outside through the open door I left, hence the smoke has gotten thinner.

The smoke gradually reduced in just seconds and the apparatuses became visible.

I roamed my eyes through the fading fog until it came in contact with her silhouette.

She was lying flat on the bed—not moving.

She lies dormant as if she already accepted her fate.

Having to get a glimpse of her deceased body made me think that now is the most beautiful she's ever been.

The fume was 80% ventilated by this point. Looking at her face while standing from afar, her folded eyelids that cover her eyes tells me that she's dead.

I guess there goes one of my meat shields. Jillian has contributed enough to my favor; I suppose now's the time to abandon her.

I turned my back to her and proceeded to walk outside the door with intentions of leaving her remains.

I abandoned her and surmised that she's dead without even looking for any vital signs of life.

I abandoned her without second thoughts.

I abandoned her with zero guilt, repent, regret, and remorse.

~I've long lost my sense of guilt. I feel no guilt whatsoever. This is the way my journey of living has crafted me; I go through life by the concept of "You reap what you sow", and this is what I earned after losing every single one of the people I cared about.

As I was on my way out, I noticed the remnants of dismantled foods on the table.

It was all messed up.

Salmons torn into shreds, plates turned upside-down, condiments spilled all over the table, and bread crumpled into balls. I suppose I know what happened here—she had a breakdown and this is the aftermath.

There's also an engine-like machine that's streaming a smidgen of smoke. It seems like she purposely set the tiny engine there and it was the source of the fumes.

But the engine stopped emitting carbon monoxide, perhaps it ran out of gas.

At any rate, nothing matters at this point, so I continued walking.

But then, as my mind was convinced that this is her ending, a perpetual snort of short breath suddenly reached my ear.

A sense of hope formed in my head.

I turned around to look at her, and she's indeed experiencing shortness of breath.

I can see her struggling, and that is a sign of life.

I'm not sure if I should call it her miscalculations or luck. The machine ran out of gas and failed to submerge the entire room in fumes, hence she survived.

The reason being is this room was enormous for a tiny engine to fill. But, if she were to execute this attempt in our previous room, she would've probably died.

Despite this supposedly good news, I felt no relief at all.

~I guess Jillian's existence is just worthless for me.

I walked over the corner of the room without hurries and grabbed the airfone. I called Charles and calmly informed him about the incident.

Charles immediately rushed to deliver Jillian her first aid.

Charles' face seemed unworried and calm when he entered the room. However, it's obvious that he cared for the test participants since he bolted on his way here.

It's been like 30 seconds since I dropped the call, and he's now here, carrying a small-sized oxygen tank and a nasal cannula.

He attached the nasal cannula to the oxygen tank and inserted the prongs in her nose. He then strapped the tube around her ears.

He carefully lifted Jillian's head and placed a soft pillow under her neck.

"She barely inhaled any carbon monoxide, she will be fine and might wake up in just minutes. She will definitely experience extreme fatigue when she wakes up, and also despondent after her failed suicide attempt, so be sure to give her comfort that she needs. "Charles said.

"Sure." I replied coldly.

"Lady Jillian was lucky to have you around. If you came late for at least a minute, she's probably gone."

"It's just a coincidence."

"I never usually praise anyone, but you're actually a brilliant student. I never told you where the vents are located, and yet you found it."

"I depended on luck to find it."

"There's no luck involved there. No human in their right mind would jump in the fumes without knowing where the vents are—especially when it can get you unconscious and collapse on the spot when you inhale excessive amounts of smoke. Lately, I noticed that you are quite an observant person, I'm certain that you already figured out this entire test."

Charles only spoke formally towards me and everyone, but now, he's speaking freely.

"You mistook me as some kind of genius."

"It's hard to tell whether you're just being humble or you're trying to conceal your intentions, at any rate, I won't pry." Charles picked up the engine on the floor. "I'll be confiscating this machine to avoid additional damage on the plane. I'll also call someone to clean the table, and for the meantime, I obliged you to keep watch on Lady Jillian."

"Sure."

After Charles left, I walked over to the dining table and chose an unstained chair, then dragged it across the room.

~~~~~

~Jillian's POV~

I feel so tired.

I don't know where I am. It's all black and cold.

~but warm.

This sensation reminds me of a certain someone. This bittersweet state of mind is very familiar.

I can remember that I tried to kill myself, so I think I'm dead. On the bright side, I felt no pain whatsoever—it doesn't even hurt more than a doctor's sharp injection.

It was like I'm on anesthesia. Not even a bit of pain can get through me.

I wished I had this pain immunity back then, so I wouldn't have to suffer from being resented by my father and the endless bullying I went through.

This sensation… I'm in love with it.

Even if I knew that I'm gone, I'm still happy because I somewhat feel him inside me. Or near me.

Just when I accepted that my eyes wouldn't be able to see this resentful world again, God himself went to touch my eyes, forcing it to open by a miracle.

I've been such a good girl despite how the world itself treats me. I did my best so I could ascend to heaven, but when my eyes slowly opened and I realized I'm still alive, it made me a bit sad 'cause I failed to escape this hellish world.

Although I'm disappointed that I'm still alive, it's not that bad since the first thing I saw when my eyes opened was his back.

He's sitting up straight on the chair while reading the same book from earlier.

~He's a certified bookworm.

I giggled.

I take back what I said. It's not that bad to live… as long as I'm with him.

Anyways, what's with this tube inside my nose? It's making me super uncomfy.

I'm feeling a bit better now, though, my limbs just felt like wet noodles due to tiredness, but I think it's fine to remove this thingy in my nose, so I unplugged it.

Leo was still occupied reading the book. It's quite funny how he still doesn't notice that I'm awake. I'm just lying peacefully here as I watch him swipe a page—he kinda looks cute from behind.

He's the only person in this room right now, so I think he's the one who saved me. I don't actually want to be saved, though, err… I guess it's fine.

But still, him, knowing that I failed a suicide attempt makes this situation awkward.

Who would've thought that failing a suicide is much embarrassing than replying to someone who isn't actually talking to you.

I can't take it. It only made me wanna kill my self even more.

"I won't tell anyone about what happened. No one will know." he said while still looking at the book.

~He knows that I'm up?

Not only that, how did he suddenly just say something like that? Is he a mind-reader?

Get a grip, Self, this is embarrassing enough, so don't make it more awkward.

I must reply to him the way I always did.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm just glad that you're awake…"

I shyly giggled, "Really? ...that makes me hap-"

"...you can't be of any use for me when you're dead."

"Hmm? Come again? I think I misheard it."

"You heard nothing wrong, Jillian. You're just a sacrificial tool."

"C'mon, Leo, I'm not in a good shape for jokes."

"You refuse to admit that I'm not the person you think I am… You're in denial. You're blinded by your kindness. It works in my favor, though, so I won't complain."

I know that all people around me are selfish and not trustworthy, but I turned a blind eye to that fact and still believed that they could be my friends.

So how long am I gonna lie to myself that there's a chance? I'm not dumb to not notice that they're bad people, but to believe that there's a hope to become friends with them is the primary example of dumb.

~Maybe I'm actually as dumb as pandas.

"Are you really just using me?" I asked, scared of what's he's going to reply.

"What do you think? You're not hot so you won't satisfy my sexual desires. You're just a good-for-nothing tool. Your sole purpose is to be a stepping stone to my success, then after that, just like how it usually goes, every rusted tool ends up in the garbage."

"You're starting to hurt my feelings, Leo."

"You don't have to say the obvious, Jillian. The thing is... I don't care. Tools don't have feelings, they're meant to be used, then replaced."

Leo's words were really, really foul.

Leo is not the person who talks harshly, but even so, his tone sounds normal. It's as if he really meant what he said.

This may be a hard pill to swallow, but it's a sign to finally open my eyes. I now fully believe that everyone is bad inside—even Leo, the person I truly admire. Or used to admire.

"Wanna hear a secret?" he added.

"..."

"I'm actually the Rat." he continued. "Stephanie and I were close friends and she knows that I'm the Rat, that's why she helped me to coerce you to be the sacrifice."

"You're lying… if you're really the Rat, then you wouldn't be saying that, and also, I never saw you and Steph act like besties."

"Of course you wouldn't. My relationship with her was rather private."

"You already lied to me many times, so I won't listen to more of your lies."

"Okay… So how's your smashed finger? You're lucky Ella returned your eye-glasses and beret. Not to mention, your acting on the voice record was truly convincing."

"How did you know that?" I asked, shocked.

"It's simply because I personally asked Stephanie to do that. Do you believe me now?"

"I get it."

I'm not mad. I just can't handle facing him, even if he's not looking at me 'cause his eyes were on the book's page.

The fact that I sacrificed myself to a jerk like him makes me cringe. I'm so stupid.

"Get out~" I said with my voice about to crack.

"Technically, I was entitled to this room."

"You'll leave or I'll stab myself with a fork."

"I'm afraid to say that a fork can't penetrate human skin."

"Then I'll stab my eyes."

Leo suddenly closed the book with a clap. He then stood up and dropped the book on the slip seat.

"I can't afford to lose a tool that wasn't even used yet. So, if you're going to kill yourself later on, then at least make your death count and be useful for once. I'll be leaving you alone, so don't even think of reaching for a fork on the dining table." He glanced at me one last time. "See you at the final meeting, Jillian." He said with a serious face.

I flipped around to my side, removing him from my sight.

I was lying on my side cuddling a pillow that goes up to my nose, then, salty chemicals leak out of my droopy eyes.

The clacking sounds that came from his shoes got weaker and weaker as he exited the room.

~You jerk.

I wanna hug you tight and never let go, but I didn't jump in 'cause that'd be selfish on my side.

I'm in a pickle, but I finally made up my mind. I only like the idea of him. He's not the independent person I once saw sitting alone on the bleacher.

He's just a jerk who hurt my feelings, and so, I'd say good riddance.


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