Rising Shards

It's alright.

P.D. cradled the shattered bits of her mask that she'd managed to collect as she stumbled out of the void. She didn't care that there was another day left of the camping trip, she was done. She knew she couldn't let the rest of her classmates see her face under the mask.

It's OK.

She growled in rage as she stormed through the void entry building, not thinking about the supplies she left back at the campsite, her only thought on her humiliating defeat from Kalei. The same Kalei who now had the same powers P.D. and the other devils did. That beastly form was much mroe powerful than P.D. guessed it would be.

And she lost.

We'll fix it.

P.D. underestimated Kalei, sure, but she still gave everything she had in that battle. She shouldn't have lost. The cold night air felt even more bitter going from the rainy climate of the battleground to here.

Just bring the parts to your room.

P.D. cursed as she fumbled the fragments of her mask, some tumbling into the snow. She fell to her knees and muttered to herself as she sifted through. Her forehead throbbed in pain, not just from the heavy hits from Kalei, but from the sensation of growing her devil horns and them going away. She always got headaches after she tapped into that state.

She felt pathetic, her shaky hands barely able to pick up the small broken pieces. The sensation of her tears falling right to the ground strange. Crying wasn't foreign to her, nor was it without the mask, but being out in public without her mask made it feel wrong.

Don't worry.

She jolted as she looked up, her long hair a frizzy mess. She thought she heard someone walking past.

"If anyone saw..." She whispered as she gathered the last piece that fell to the ground, running across campus to her dorm room.

No one's here.

"No one's here," P.D. said as she moved, mostly to herself. "No one will see."

You were amazing.

Once the pieces of her mask were safely put on a table, P.D. crumbled to the ground again when she was safely in her room.

You have nothing to be ashamed of.

It wasn't that she wanted to keep her face hidden. And she did need the mask to stay stable outside of the void. Sometimes maybe she did want someone to see. To free herself of that particular burden. But she couldn't.

A—

P.D. gasped as she looked down at her hands, seeing small cuts across them, not from the fight but from carrying around the small broken pieces of glass.

"What do I do? What do I do?" She whispered to herself.

P.D. left her phone in her room before she left for the camping trip. After she cleaned up the blood, she sent a message, not expecting a response. Her phone lit up a moment later, giving her a burst of hope, but it was just an ad.

For many reasons, P.D.'s tears carried her to sleep that night.

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