Kelvin couldn’t take his eyes off the screen as the battle raged on. There was something about watching Missy in her final battle that made his vision go blurry, as if he knew he was watching something on a television screen, but that the image went dark all of a sudden. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the clouds from them, but it didn’t seem to work, so he slowly inched closer and closer to the screen until it felt like the splatters of blood leaving Missy’s body that got onto the camera got onto him too. He shook his arm out, trying to get the aforementioned blood off of his arm, and accidentally hit the tv screen, his eyes widening at the knowledge of what he just did. Had that screen been that close to him this whole time? Who had moved it closer while he was standing there watching? And why did it feel like Missy’s death took two hours to unfold?
He looked at the person beside him, eyes wide, red, puffy, unclear if rubbing them too hard or if the tears forming in them were the cause of the redness. For a moment, he tried to speak, but no words came out, just hot air, like he had lost control of his vocal chords. The cannon echoed through the room. Suddenly, he was back in the arena. “Mel?” he asked quietly, beginning to look around him for that familiar tuft of pink hair.
