"You're not even trying." She spat at me, confused and angry, "No wonder everything this way." We stood at the edge of the crowd, and I refused to look at her, instead searching the undulating wave of faces. Searching for heartbreak in a pretty package.

"I'm trying," I rasped, mouth dry after months without The Water, "I'm trying so hard, and you know it, I just... I can't invade..."

And I know she's shaking her head, but I'm not looking, not even a glance or a turn or a peek.
And The Face isn't there in the sea of bodies, so my heart throbs and my mind explodes into glass splinters, scattered on the cobblestones so shoeless EveryOne can be affected, and they scream at me "It's not fair! How dare you do this?" And it's not my fault, but it is.

So I turn my ears to listen miles away, and I turn my eyes to see the years before This Madness took place, and I study the speech and the smiles and the Deception that didn't exist, if only to remind myself that my beliefs were unfounded and it was I who became the horror, the betrayer.

Because The Face wasn't lying, and she's right about me.