Page 9
“That’s insane, Madz. He was your twin brother…”
She shakes her head, cutting me off without actually cutting me off. “I know that it seems that way, but I’ve always felt deep down that it wasn’t my place to touch. I know that it is yours. So please, take your time. Sleep in here, and when you’re ready, maybe you can help me box up his items?”
I let out a loud gush of breath. “I don’t know if I can do it. Sleep in here that is.”
She smiles, her hand finding the door handle. “You will. But if you don’t, you know you can jump in with Bishop and me.”
“Hard pass,” I mumble, smiling at her from the corner of my eye.
She chuckles, then twists the handle and pushes it open. “You know where I am if you need me.”
Tillie
There should be a color that is darker than black. The word “black” just doesn’t seem enough to be able to express a color as dark as the ones that are licked on Daemon’s bedroom walls. The trimmings and windowsills are white, but the walls display a color so dark and bleak, that they somewhat almost matched the pits of his eyes.
I squeeze the door, trying to find a balance before I lose my footing. Closing my eyes, I try to ignore the soft scent of cologne that he always wore. Clean soap mixed with sugar and spice. I take another step inside, the floor creaking under my weight. Shutting the door, I lean against it and swipe at the tears that are flowing down my cheeks. I hate that he is gone. I hate that I wasn’t there to say goodbye, and I hate that he lied to me.
“You promised you wouldn’t die,” I whisper, it comes out hoarse. I clear my throat and push off the door, making my way to his bed. Silk black sheets are unmade on his bed, and it stops me for a moment. Before I can think of anything else, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out, answering without checking to see who it is.
“Hello?”
“Go to the window.”
“Who is this?” I answer, looking around the room.
The muffled voice has been filtered through a voice box to hide the owner. “Follow my instructions very carefully, Tillie. Now, go to the window.”
Slowly, I switch sides and push my phone to the other side of my head as I tenderly make my way to the window, pinching the net curtain between my fingers to crack it open. There’s a dark tree right outside the window cutting off most of the view of the driveway, but when I look to the right, I see a dark SUV parked with its lights on.
Confused, I crank my head to try to get a better look, when the driver’s side opens up and a man in a dark suit steps out.
“Now open the window and climb down. Be careful not to disturb anything too much.”
“Who are you? I’m not coming down there until you tell me who you are.”
“I’m someone who has a lot more pull than your sister. I can help you, Tillie Stuprum, but you have to follow my orders and move now.”
“I can’t. She has my daughter and she is watching my every move.”
He seems to pause and then retreat back to his SUV. “I’ll be back, and when I do, you’re mine.”
He hangs up and I watch as the lights sink into the darkness before disappearing toward the street.
I don’t know who that was, and I don’t think I want to know.
There’s a sort of bliss that comes with ignorance, like the saying goes. Because if you ignore all the signs that are being flashed in front of you, you can pretend that your world isn’t burning to a crisp.
I slowly make my way back to Daemon’s bed, flopping down onto it and pulling his sheets into a tangled mess around my ankles. I wish he was here, just to remind me that everything is going to be okay. To put pressure on the wound that Nate always seems to inflict, to just be here to mend my broken mind. My eyelids feel heavy, my mind slowly sinks into oblivion.
“You’re a Stuprum. Power comes with that name, but you have to learn to harness it, Tillie, or it will destroy you like it did Katsia.”
“No!” I shake my head, running through the dark corridors of some random abandoned building. Old graffiti is splashed over the aged concrete, and every single door is hanging off its hinges.
“You can’t run from this life, Tillie!” The voice laughs, echoing from the walls and sinking into the bones in my body. “You will never be able to run from this life. You think you know, but you don’t. You’ve just begun to know.”
She shakes her head, cutting me off without actually cutting me off. “I know that it seems that way, but I’ve always felt deep down that it wasn’t my place to touch. I know that it is yours. So please, take your time. Sleep in here, and when you’re ready, maybe you can help me box up his items?”
I let out a loud gush of breath. “I don’t know if I can do it. Sleep in here that is.”
She smiles, her hand finding the door handle. “You will. But if you don’t, you know you can jump in with Bishop and me.”
“Hard pass,” I mumble, smiling at her from the corner of my eye.
She chuckles, then twists the handle and pushes it open. “You know where I am if you need me.”
Tillie
There should be a color that is darker than black. The word “black” just doesn’t seem enough to be able to express a color as dark as the ones that are licked on Daemon’s bedroom walls. The trimmings and windowsills are white, but the walls display a color so dark and bleak, that they somewhat almost matched the pits of his eyes.
I squeeze the door, trying to find a balance before I lose my footing. Closing my eyes, I try to ignore the soft scent of cologne that he always wore. Clean soap mixed with sugar and spice. I take another step inside, the floor creaking under my weight. Shutting the door, I lean against it and swipe at the tears that are flowing down my cheeks. I hate that he is gone. I hate that I wasn’t there to say goodbye, and I hate that he lied to me.
“You promised you wouldn’t die,” I whisper, it comes out hoarse. I clear my throat and push off the door, making my way to his bed. Silk black sheets are unmade on his bed, and it stops me for a moment. Before I can think of anything else, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out, answering without checking to see who it is.
“Hello?”
“Go to the window.”
“Who is this?” I answer, looking around the room.
The muffled voice has been filtered through a voice box to hide the owner. “Follow my instructions very carefully, Tillie. Now, go to the window.”
Slowly, I switch sides and push my phone to the other side of my head as I tenderly make my way to the window, pinching the net curtain between my fingers to crack it open. There’s a dark tree right outside the window cutting off most of the view of the driveway, but when I look to the right, I see a dark SUV parked with its lights on.
Confused, I crank my head to try to get a better look, when the driver’s side opens up and a man in a dark suit steps out.
“Now open the window and climb down. Be careful not to disturb anything too much.”
“Who are you? I’m not coming down there until you tell me who you are.”
“I’m someone who has a lot more pull than your sister. I can help you, Tillie Stuprum, but you have to follow my orders and move now.”
“I can’t. She has my daughter and she is watching my every move.”
He seems to pause and then retreat back to his SUV. “I’ll be back, and when I do, you’re mine.”
He hangs up and I watch as the lights sink into the darkness before disappearing toward the street.
I don’t know who that was, and I don’t think I want to know.
There’s a sort of bliss that comes with ignorance, like the saying goes. Because if you ignore all the signs that are being flashed in front of you, you can pretend that your world isn’t burning to a crisp.
I slowly make my way back to Daemon’s bed, flopping down onto it and pulling his sheets into a tangled mess around my ankles. I wish he was here, just to remind me that everything is going to be okay. To put pressure on the wound that Nate always seems to inflict, to just be here to mend my broken mind. My eyelids feel heavy, my mind slowly sinks into oblivion.
“You’re a Stuprum. Power comes with that name, but you have to learn to harness it, Tillie, or it will destroy you like it did Katsia.”
“No!” I shake my head, running through the dark corridors of some random abandoned building. Old graffiti is splashed over the aged concrete, and every single door is hanging off its hinges.
“You can’t run from this life, Tillie!” The voice laughs, echoing from the walls and sinking into the bones in my body. “You will never be able to run from this life. You think you know, but you don’t. You’ve just begun to know.”
Table of Contents
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