Page 44

Present

“What did you do?” Blue eyes glisten before me.

“What I had to.” I choke out, the memories like bombs detonating inside my mind. “My parents were never abusive.” A slight smile touches my lips as I silently reminisce about my mother just like I did time and time again to get me through my nightmare of a life.

She bites her thumbnail, mulling over my story, my sins. “Your parent must have been relieved they finally found you.”

I bite my lower lip, guilt gnawing at my insides. “When I turned eighteen, I escaped. It was a freak accident; I was never left alone. Not even to piss, but for some unknown reason, I found myself without a keeper and bolted. Except, I never went home. My parents don’t know I’m alive.”

She sits up, her brows dipped in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you go home? Your parents were probably heartbroken, devastated and you just let them continue to believe that you’re gone?”

I mirror Ash, pulling myself up, tucking my knees into my chest. After years of contemplating what it would be like to go home, I could never figure out what would be worse; my parents mourning their son for life or getting him back to realize that he’s not their son anymore?

“I couldn’t face them, still can’t. Not after everything that’s happened to me. Not after everything I’ve done. I’m a monster, Ash. Deep down, I’m rotten, decayed, so passed gone that I can never be brought back.”

She shakes her head, “You did what you had to do to survive. No one can blame you for that, but what they can blame you for is not coming back. Do you know what I would give to have my best friend come home? Even after all these years, even after the torment of losing him, of burying him!”

I should tell her...

Now would be the time to finally confess that I’m the best friend she’s desperate to have back.

Except, I can’t.

“Doubt that.” I scoff. “If you only had a clue to the things I’ve had to do to get by, you’d be eating your own words.”

“Try me.” She glares.

Unable to meet her eyes, my gaze drops down to my hands.

My heart stutters, skipping every other beat when bright red slime flashes before me.

I squeeze my lids shut, shaking my head to rid me of this insanity.

I know it’s all in my head, but when I open them again, I’m back in the forest standing over her body.

A single tear falls down the side of her face, her eyes forever open.

What once glittered with happiness now freezes, stuck in a lifeless abyss.

I can’t help but wonder what her last thoughts were before she met her Maker.

Did she regret all her choices in life? Did she wish she was with her parents? Did she hate me?

I wouldn’t blame her because even I hate me .

Blood pools in the center of her neck before spreading out and down into the Earth beneath her.

Her head, thankfully, has fallen sideways, her soulless gaze caught on the forest beyond.

The ends of her blonde hair now dyed crimson.

The color so bright against her, like a splash of paint poured onto a blank canvas.

A tremble works its way through my body, my stomach churning loudly, threatening to evacuate the food from earlier. If I wasn’t so riddled with shock, so forcefully numb right now, I don’t think I would ever stop vomiting.

The knife clatters to the ground soundlessly, falling from my slippery hands.

I can’t take my eyes off of her, the girl that’s given her life for me.

Though, by the lone tear, I would argue that she didn’t have much of a choice.

Her life depended on me, on my decision to either join the family or let myself fall to the same fate.

I’m selfish.

A coward.

A sinner.

I’m exactly who they want me to be. I’ve done what they’ve asked and now I get to live. I should be relieved that it’s all over, but I’m the farthest thing from that.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, startling me from my spiraling thoughts. My legs are prickly, sleep invading my muscles from kneeling for far too long, but I can’t bring myself to move from this spot.

I expect for Father to tell me it’s over, to congratulate me on murdering an innocent girl to save myself, only he doesn’t.

Instead, he clears his throat. “Are you ready to finish what you’ve started?”

My muscles tense at his words, my stomach clenching painfully. “W-what d-do you m-mean? ”

I can hardly get the words past my chattering teeth, the shock infiltrating my body like a parasite, controlling every nerve.

“It’s not over yet. Everyone here has had the chance to lose their innocence over time, son, but you have had very little life experience. It must all be done in one night before you can be welcomed with open arms.” He explains as if I understand anything he’s saying.

“I-I k-killed h-her.” I try to tell him, but really I’m speaking these words to myself.

He brushes the hair back on my head, petting me like an animal. My throat clogs with unshed tears and disgust, this time a little sob retches free. I flinch when he crouches beside me with what could be portrayed as an understanding smile, but I know it’s laced with evil.

With awe filled eyes, he gets a closer look at the hole in the center of the girl’s chest. “Right in the heart. How merciful, how... magnificent.”

He drags his hand through the blood still gushing, slipping a finger inside the wound. I watch him, terrified, sickened by the way he shivers with excitement. As he caresses her greying face, I collapse backwards to the ground, falling on my ass.

Now’s my chance to run.

Slowly, I retreat, pushing myself back inch by inch.

My heart races frantically inside my chest, so fast that the world starts to spin around me.

When I’ve put enough distance between me and the monster, I can jump to my feet and sprint.

At this point, I’d rather get lost in these woods than spend another day with these freaks.

Only, I don’t get far. I back into something hard, thinking it’s a tree, I try scooting around it. Instead, I’m met with more resistance.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a deep, grueling voice snarls in my ear .

Bordeaux... Fuck!

His voice catches Father’s attention, his head whipping towards me like someone possessed. In seconds, he’s on his feet, his red cloak dragging through the grass as he descends on me. With a fierce grip, his fingers fist the collar of my shirt yanking me up.

I dig my heels into the ground, desperate not to get any closer to the girl I’ve killed, but instead I only stumble and nearly fall on top of her. With a swipe of his hand, Father rips the hem of the girl’s bloodied dress back, revealing her naked lower half.

“Drop your shorts boy” He orders, his voice booming into the night air.

I shake my head vehemently, tears finally falling. “No.”

He clenches the front of my shirt now, bringing my face to his. Metal reeks inside his mouth, his teeth stained red, the thought alone of him doing what I think he did has me heaving.

“Either you drop them, or I will.” He threatens, releasing me with a shove. “May I remind you, boy, that the only way you leave here tonight is by joining my dearest daughter.” He points to the dead girl. “Or as a part of this family. Your choice.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, hatred blinding me to the point where all I can see is red.

I’ve killed the wrong person tonight and now it’s too late.

He’s taken back the knife, my only hope.

There’s no chance I'm getting out of this unscathed. For a minute, I mull over the idea of dying. At the very least, I wouldn’t have to endure any more of this repulsive horror.

But to die means leaving behind my mother, my real father, Ash...

I can’t do it, I’m a fucking coward! I’m weak! I’m selfish.

My fingers shake so intensely, it takes several tries to unbutton my shorts. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when they fall around my ankles, but it can’t be anything good.

A nasty smile cuts across Father’s face as his eyes dart between my legs, my hands trying to hide myself from pedophile eyes.

“Now, rid yourself of that burden you’re holding onto. You don’t need your virginity where you’ll be going.”

“Jesus.” Ash mutters, bringing me back to reality.

My mouth gapes open, the fear of rejection consuming me. When I look back down at my hands, they’re shaking violently, but they’re not red anymore. They’re rugged, weathered hands attached to a tormented man. A man who’s escaped.

“I-I didn’t think I had a choice.” I whisper and am met with silence. “I should have just died.”

“Khaos,” my name cuts out of her mouth like a slap on the wrist. “You did what you had to do.”

I shake my head until my vision blurs, tears filling my eyes, spilling down my cheeks.

The vulnerability, the self-hatred, the mortification I feel right now is enough to make me want to end everything here and now.

If I dare to look Ash in the face and find revulsion in her stare, then there will be no tomorrow.

Before I muster the courage to look at her, vomit forces its way up and out of my mouth. My hand catches it just long enough to spew everything into the toilet in my bathroom. I let it all out, purging my food, my drinks, my memories. All of it down the toilet.

When there’s nothing left inside of me and the dry heaving quells, I slump against the wall.

My eyes feel heavy and my throat burns, but worst of all, my heart feels shattered.

Minutes pass by with my own thoughts tormenting me, telling me what a piece of shit I am.

That I deserve a fate much worse than the girl I’ve killed.

There’s a reason I don’t talk about my past. Besides the fact that it’s not exactly a fun story to share, but reliving those days is enough to end me.

I didn’t escape for nothing. I’ve found life on the other side and somehow, little by little, happiness started to find me.

So, I learned to shove those memories down, suppress them so deep into my subconscious that they seem like distant nightmares, and it’s worked, up until now as my past sits here facing me. .. judging me.