042

Only the sounds from the screen broke the silence in the room. Ron was lost in thoughts. He learnt from the doctors and the news that there had been a terrorist attack and he miraculously survived due to the hangar being reinforced. There were a few more survivors here and there but they were all in bad shape. The city was leveled and turned to ruins. Even with the efforts from the army and such, many of the survivors didn't make it to the hospital or died because it took too long to get to them. The only reason he survived himself was due to the block of metal that destroyed his left arm. Apparently, it had been quite big and left some space for his body as it fell.

He survived due to a crack in the ceiling.

He asked about his colleagues and friends. They all died except Laila. He would be allowed to see her in a few days once the doctors believed he had recovered enough. She was in the intense care unit. Her injuries were worse than his and it was unknown whether she would ever be able to wake up. Technology had its limits too. The body might be repaired but the shock apparently messed up her brain.

So, he ended up here, being the only one still alive. He didn't know what to do or what to think about it.

The perpetrator had long since been found. He was dead as he killed himself with the blast. It was someone from a 3rd rank planet like Telmum. It was a lower-class citizen disillusioned by life and filled with hate. He could understand that certain situations could force people down into despair. His life hadn't been rosy at first. You either looked forward to a brighter hope or lost yourself to a grim despair in this kind of situation. That much, he knew.

But he couldn't comprehend why he had to take the happiness away from others. He didn't know them or anything. Yet, he did that…

And Ron had no one to put the blame on and resent now. Because the only one responsible for all this was already dead. He fought so hard to have that life, worked tirelessly every day and spent all his time trying to better himself. Yet, because of one random event, he lost everything.

His tears kept falling as he began to weep.

…

Four days later, Doctor Amundsen entered the room of one of his patients. It was an underaged kid who survived the recent terrorist attack. The poor youth lost everything he knew and his body was broken when he was brought here. They managed to patch him up but there were obvious signs that he was still not ready to be let out.

Physically, he might have been fine. But mentally, he was not. He was having severe cases of depression and some crying fits at times. Yet, he had to discharge him. Government's order. Apparently, this kid was being sent straight to university for the second semester of the year. He had mixed feelings about it but no choice in the matter.

As he saw the kid still staring blankly at the news on the screen, he knew. He knew that this kid needed more time, that he needed someone to help him psychologically. But he couldn't give him this kind of help, no one could. Because there were orders.

As he approached the bed, the kid turned around and smiled brightly at him. It hurt him even more as it was very obvious this was a fake smile. The kid seemed to joyfully greet him but the doctor could see the pain inside his eyes.

They chatted for some time before he told him he would be discharged today. A nurse was called in and brought him some clothes. He no longer had any belongings. Those were provided by the state. The outfit was composed of a black shirt and black pants, along with black socks and black sneakers. It showed that the quality was neither good or bad. Those were simple cheap clothes. They were enough for him to rejoiced since he had spent the past few days in a medical robe. He cracked a joke about finally being able to walk with his ass hidden from view. But him, the doctor, could only hear the screams for help behind the façade.

And it broke his heart.

But he didn't do anything about it and helped the kid move. As they left his room, the kid asked to see his only surviving friend. The doctor had been reluctant about this. The girl was likely to never wake up, he didn't want another trauma to pile on top of the kid. Yet, after he saw the pleading in his eyes, he agreed.

It would likely be the last time he saw her anyways. It might help bring him closure. He sincerely wished the kid would be able to move on from this nightmare.

…

Ron stood behind the glass wall. He could see Laila. She was laying in a bed with many tubes all over the place, many being attached to her. They had shaved her head and there were captors on it. He could see her breathing from the monitors at the side. But her eyes remained close.

He looked at her one last time, with fists clenched, before walking away.