The cold, sterile atmosphere of the emergency room was a far cry from the chaos in Awa's mind. The bright lights overhead buzzed faintly, and the antiseptic scent clung to everything, making her feel dizzy and out of place. A nurse stood beside her, wrapping Awa's bruised and swollen hand in clean, white bandages, her expression calm but curious. Across the room, Beatrice slept soundly in Tina's arms, her small face peaceful despite the late hour.
Awa winced as the nurse adjusted the bandage, the pain still fresh and sharp. She had been trying to distract herself by staring at the floor, avoiding the reality of what had just happened. But when the nurse gently cleared her throat, Awa knew the question was coming.
"So, how exactly did you injure yourself like this?" the nurse asked with a raised eyebrow, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. "You said it was a door?"
Awa shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting to Tina, who was pretending not to listen, but Awa could see the slight smirk pulling at her sister's lips. "Yeah... uh," Awa stammered, her voice awkward. "I, uh, closed the door on it. Really hard."
The nurse blinked, clearly taken aback. She glanced down at Awa's hand again, her brow furrowing. "A door?" she repeated, skepticism creeping into her voice. "Must've been a really weird door. Almost like… a torture device." She chuckled, but the doubt was clear.
Tina couldn't hold back anymore and let out a small snicker from across the room, shaking her head in mock disbelief. "Oh yeah, you know those medieval torture chambers people keep in their apartments these days."
Awa shot her sister a look, but Tina only raised an eyebrow innocently, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. The nurse, meanwhile, chuckled again but said nothing more, probably sensing the awkward tension. She finished wrapping Awa's hand, securing the bandage in place before giving her a sympathetic smile.
"All done. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated. You might need to come back if the swelling doesn't go down in a few days." She gave Awa a final glance, then her gaze flicked to Beatrice sleeping soundly in Tina's arms. "Take care," she added softly before walking away.
As soon as the nurse disappeared, Tina stood, still cradling Beatrice, and motioned toward the exit. They moved in silence, Awa avoiding Tina's eyes as they left the hospital and stepped out into the cool night air. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the hum of the city was distant, a faint murmur compared to the noise inside Awa's head.
Tina didn't speak until they were halfway to the car, her voice sharp as she finally broke the silence. "So, are you going to tell me why you decided to smash your own hand with a hammer? Or have you completely lost your mind?"
Awa flinched at the bluntness, but she couldn't blame Tina for being direct. She hadn't really explained anything, and after everything that had happened, maybe she was losing it. Her thoughts swirled with the memories of the past few weeks—the strange, unexplainable feelings, the night with Forrest, the dent in the metal container. It was too much, all of it.
"I don't know," Awa mumbled after a long pause. "I don't know what's happening to me."
Tina sighed, her frustration mixed with concern. She unlocked the car, carefully buckling Beatrice into the backseat before turning to Awa. Her voice softened, but the edge of worry remained. "Awa, if you need help... if you need to talk to someone..."
Awa nodded slowly, her mind still elsewhere. "I just need a few days alone," she said quietly. "I need to figure things out."
Tina's eyes searched Awa's face for a moment, hesitation flickering in her expression. "Are you sure?" she asked, glancing at Beatrice. "I don't want you doing anything stupid. Especially not with all this... weirdness going on."
"I won't," Awa promised, her voice stronger than she felt. She looked at Beatrice, her chest tightening with emotion. "Can you take care of her for a few days? I just... I need some time."
Tina studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. "Okay," she agreed, her tone firm but understanding. "But you better not do anything reckless. Beatrice needs you, Awa."
Awa swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a weak smile. "Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
After dropping Tina and Beatrice off at the apartment, Awa drove aimlessly through the dark city streets. The radio played softly in the background, but the music barely registered in her mind. All she could think about was the dent in the container, the weight of her own hand smashing into it with impossible force. She needed answers, and the only way she could think to get them was to go back—to retrace her steps, to see if the evidence of what she had done was still there.
After what felt like hours, she arrived at the deserted lot where the container was. The streetlights flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the rusted metal. The place was empty, abandoned, except for the faint hum of the city in the distance.
Awa stepped out of the car, her heart pounding as she approached the container. There it was—the dent, still etched into the corten steel, a perfect imprint of her fist. She reached out, her fingers tracing the edges of the dent, her mind racing with disbelief.
It was real. She hadn't imagined it. But how?
Awa pushed against the metal with her hand, testing it. Nothing happened. She pushed harder, using all of her strength, but the container didn't budge. The metal was solid, unyielding.
She frowned, frustration bubbling up inside her. She knew she had done it. She knew she had punched the container and left that mark. But now, as she stood there, exhausted and confused, it felt like all her strength had vanished.
With a sigh, Awa stepped back, her hands trembling as she wiped sweat from her brow. She was tired—so, so tired. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, and nothing made sense anymore.
But she wasn't done yet.
Awa drove to the riverbank, the place where she had crawled out of the freezing water the night before, her body exhausted. She parked the car and walked down to the edge, staring at the spot where she had pulled herself up like a dog, discarded by Forrest like she was nothing.
Her anger flared again, her heart rate spiking as she remembered the cold look in his eyes, the way he had lifted her like she weighed nothing and then thrown her away like trash, what did he say? Just a human?
Why did he do that? she thought, her fists clenching at her sides.
The rage swelled inside her, hot and uncontrollable, bubbling up from the pit of her stomach. Her vision began to blur as the blood rushed through her body, her pulse roaring in her ears. She felt the familiar burn in her muscles, the one she had felt when she punched the container, the one that told her something was happening—something dangerous.
Without thinking, Awa let out a shout and kicked the concrete flood barrier beside her, trying to release her frustration in a single, violent outburst.
But the sound that followed wasn't what she expected.
Instead of the dull thud of her foot hitting concrete, there was a sharp, ear-splitting crack followed by the deafening roar of concrete exploding. Dust and debris flew into the air, the pieces of the shattered barrier flying in all directions like shrapnel. Awa stumbled backward, her breath catching in her throat as she watched the destruction unfold in slow motion.
The flood barrier—designed to withstand the seasonal torrents of the river—had shattered under her kick. Pieces of concrete scattered across the ground, and a thick cloud of dust hung in the air, swirling in the dim light.
Awa's chest heaved, her mind blank with shock. She stared at the destruction, her pulse still pounding in her ears, her thoughts spinning out of control.
I did that, she thought, disbelief flooding her system. How... how did I do that?
She stumbled backward, her legs giving way beneath her as she collapsed onto the ground, staring at the wreckage in front of her.