Page 113 of Fragments

Fitting, really.My emotions feel like a storm, raging inside me. Calming at times, then gusting back with a vengeance. Darkness brings with it thoughts you can’t escape from.

I combat it the only way I know how. The way I’ve been fighting depression my entire adult life.

With lots of depraved sex.

And it’s fine. Better than fine. It’s fuckinggreat.

I love having sex with people I don’t care about in the slightest…

Puffing out a breath, I wipe the water from my eyes. I’ve been standing beneath this shower head, just staring at the wall for minutes. Thinking, remembering…Feelingwhile pretending I’m not.

I really don’t know how much longer I can do this…

How much more of this constant pining can I take?

It’s been weeks since the night I had Lex in my grasp again; when he pulled away from me,again, for the billionth time. And every time it happens, every time I lure him closer, only for him to wake up, shake it off and remember that he hates me, I fall deeper into this internal pit of despair.

I drove this goddamn wedge between us.Idid it, onpurpose, and I have no one to blame but myself. So what do you do when you just can’t get over someone who wants nothing to do with you? What do you do when there’s no hope, any and all specks of optimism you were holding on to are swept away, and you realize you’re chasing a ghost?

Getting fucked up seems like it would be a viable option. A way to numb myself more than the meaningless sex, which I don’t want to admit is starting to feel like a chore rather than a recreation. I have drugs, and some booze I’ve been hoarding over the years, but I usually save that stuff for trades. Drugs are worth more than gold in this place. More than sex, even.

Still, I won’t say the temptation isn’t strong at times like this. I used to do a lot of drugs before I was arrested. But the thought of sitting in my cell getting blasted by myself is even more depressing than how I spent last night…

Letting Matthews fuck my face, then lying on the floor and scraping my wrists with concrete.

Flipping my arms over, I watch the water pour over my jagged scars. All the tattoos I’ve done on my wrists are warped and messy, since I never let them heal right.

I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll just keep ruining them and covering it up, because I’m incapable of ever moving from this purgatory.

Some people are a lost cause…

Clangs and shuffles have me looking up, watching as Dash is shoved into the room. He looks around, and I can tell he’s probably searching for Luthor, or Kang. Not necessarily me…

I guess we got off on the wrong foot, which is another thing that’s strictly my fault. But Dash is a sweet kid. Definitely misunderstood, but he genuinely cares for Lex, and that should make me happy. He’s a part of our group now, maybe even a better part than me.

They’re always trying to phase me out, I’m sure of it.

Dash notices me as he slinks over to the showers where I’m standing. He picks the one by the wall, so there’s space between us, eyes going shifty as he quickly strips out of his clothes. He’s wearing nicer boxers than mine. Brand-new Calvins.

Interesting…

He seems very jumpy, peering over his shoulder while he washes up fast, covering his dick with his hands pretty much the whole time. His gaze meets mine, and he nods.

Grabbing a towel, I dry myself off while sauntering closer to him. “Hey. You okay?”

He blinks his wide hazel eyes at me, showing off his enlarged pupils. “Yea… Yea, I just got back from the East so I’m just kinda…” His voice trails, and he gusts out a breath, blinking hard.

“They had you in the East??” I ask, surprised.

When I didn’t see him for a few days, I just assumed he was in solitary, since he’s there a lot.

“Sorta… I mean, not likeofficially,” he rambles. Then he rubs his eyes. “This place is so fucked up. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel like I’m… losing myself.”

I nod, picking up my boxers and stepping into them. “You wouldn’t be the first inmate to lose his shit in here. Especially spending so much time in solitary. It takes a mental toll, for sure.”

“It’s more than that,” he goes on. “I haven’t been here long at all, but I’m doing things I never thought I’d… do.”

I watch him for a moment, a visible flush rising in his pale complexion. The water’s not hot. That’s not it. He’s blushing. And biting on that pouty bottom lip.