105. Chance

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Clementine stared at herself in the mirror. Maybe it was the dim light or maybe it was just she didn't get much sleep last night, again, but she barely recognized herself anymore. Her eyes were droopy and bloodshot, the scar across her face had faded slightly but was still all too obvious, her hair was a butchered mess of lopped off curls, and even her face looked wrong. It looked thin, stretched and pale. It was more like seeing her own ghost than herself.

Looking at the clumps of hair in the sink, Clem found herself regretting cutting it so short, like she always does. Every time she would tell herself she shouldn't care, and every time it did nothing to reassure her. If anything, it just got worse with time. She looked so different now that her hair was the only thing she had recognized anymore, and she had just used a knife to slice it off. It hurt her to cut off her hair, as it did to look at her left hand.

Horatio's surgery had been more painful than she expected, but in the days that followed the lingering soreness in her hand had begun to fade. Now, a week later and confident she probably wouldn't die of infection anytime soon, Clem's morbid curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. Pulling off her glove, she saw the bandage underneath and began to unravel it.

Slowly the dressing fell away and Clem found herself getting her first good look at the mark Vernal had left on her. Where her pinky and ring finger used to be were two twitching little nubs scarred with stitches pulling together parts of flesh around what remained of the bones. The skin around the stitches had splotches of black and dark red, like they were starting to rot, and just the way those nubs wiggled made Clem wanted to throw up.

They didn't even feel like they were part of her body anymore, but strange little alien growths that did nothing but hurt her if she clenched her fist too hard. Staring at them, sneering at them, Clem had the overwhelming urge to draw her knife and cut them off, excise these grotesque reminders of one of many horrible days she wished she could forget. But Clem knew it wouldn't do any good, it'd just create another unsightly injury on her already mangled hand, and the thought of losing more of her body made her wept.

Clutching one hand with the other, Clem suddenly noticed her bracelet. She often forgot about it, that little ring of colorful beads and its heart medallion. Looking at her stumps again, Clem found herself hastily yanking the bracelet off her right wrist and quickly relocating it to her left one. It was like decorating a mutilated tree. She didn't know what she expected exactly, that maybe the bracelet would distract her from the injury. Or maybe it was the idea Sarah could just take away all of her pain, but she couldn't.

"Clem?"

Sarah's voice startled Clem. It felt like having a bucket of cold water tossed on her as the rest of the world outside of the bathroom came flooding back into mind.

"Yeah," said Clem as she picked up the bandage. "I'll be right out."

Clem hastily wrapped her hand as quickly as she could, which still wasn't very quick, then unlocked the door.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as Clem stepped out, wearing the same worrisome look she always wore these days.

"I'm fine." It was clear from the look Sarah gave Clem she didn't believe her. Clem tried to force a weak smile onto her face, but she couldn't do it. She started crying instead, and when she tried to turn away she found herself in Sarah's arms.

"It's okay," she whispered in a pained voice. "Just tell me—"

"I looked at my hand," confessed Clem in a whisper, embarrassed to even say that out loud. "It's stupid but—"

"It's not."

Clem took a deep breath. "I guess I just thought if I didn't look at it, I could keep pretending my fingers were still there. I... I swear I can still feel them sometimes."

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