330’s begun opening up the past few days. She responds when I talk to her, and we’ve even had a few genuine conversations. It’s almost like old times, except 330 can’t do her wild gestures without tiring quickly yet. Not that it stops her from trying whenever she goes on a tirade against the hospital.

Yesterday, we’d been spending most of my visit with light hearted conversation, even some joking around. But the joy on her face shifted into seriousness after a while.

“Lisa, I…” she broke eye contact, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m… I’m sorry for… for acting the way I did the first few days. And… tha… thank you, for… for being here. For being someone I can talk to during… this.”

It was obvious that she was having to drag that apology out by force, but it was still more of an apology than I had expected. I hugged her, and while she didn’t react, this time she didn’t flinch away. “I’ll always be here for you.” I told her.

I should have just enjoyed the moment, but at the time I hoped that maybe this meant she was willing to open up a little. “If, um, if you don’t mind me asking…” I said, “what happened to you? How’d you get so beat up?”

I could tell that was the wrong thing to say when I felt her whole body stiffen up. She pulled out of my arms, and looked down at the bandaged stump below her left elbow.

“I messed up. Everyone died.” She said.

“What do you mean, everyone?”

She turned away from me, and whispered the next word so quietly I could barely hear it.

“Everyone.”

Tried asking her more questions, but she didn’t say anything more for the rest of the visit. But still… everyone? What the hell is going to happen in the future?

-Lisa