Page 5

Iblink awake freezing cold with a stiff neck that feels like it’s frozen in position, curled around the pillow on the exposed wooden floor. Splinters dig into my skin all down my side but the biting pain is nothing compared to the pressure pounding through my head like shock waves relentlessly crashing against my skull. “Goddamn it. Why can’t I catch a break?” I mutter, scrubbing the crusted sleep from my eyes.

I’m not ready to face what I’ve been ordered to do, one of these days I’ll be strong enough or broken enough to tell Neil to fuck off and get his own hands dirty for once. But sadly today is not that day. What I need to do is far too personal and close to my heart. I flatly refuse to ‘get rid’ of anything of K’s, I’ll box it up and bring it here and keep it close to me. Safe.

I might not have him back in my life yet, but it will be like having part of him here with me. It’ll be better than seeing his ghost everywhere I look and far more comforting than the memories that bombard my unconscious mind when I finally manage to exhaust myself enough to sleep.

I wrench my wretched body off the floor and haul my sorry backside into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on because I can’t face my reflection in the mirror. I turn the shower on to the coldest setting and step under the ice cold spray.

The freezing water pounds against my skin like razor blades tipped with acid. It burns, scalding the layers of self-hatred and disgust away, albeit, temporarily. It helps wash the exhaustion away that clings to me like a second skin. As adrenaline surges through my veins I draw up enough energy to wash myself, cleaning away the debris that coats me from my earlier altercation with Gale. I inhale a shuddering breath that sears my lungs.

Pouring shampoo into my shaking hand I rub the sweet scented suds into my hair, methodically, and continue to wash the rest of my body like I’m clinically detached. Because that’s the only way I’ll be able to fool myself that I’m strong enough to go through with what I need to do. What I’ve been ordered to do.

I watch on objectively as the bubbles are washed off my body by sluices of water that trace the outlines and contours of my ravaged body. The last few months haven’t only crippled me mentally but the physical toll they’ve taken on my body is unmistakable.

I can’t eat, barely drink enough to keep my body hydrated and functioning. If I do drink I’m drowning myself in vodka or whisky. Anything to try and dull the pain that’s infected me like an insidious disease.

The only difference between me and a cancer sufferer is I don’t want to get better. I don’t want to heal because that would mean accepting a possibility I don’t want to face. One that would mean Kayden is gone and not coming back. One that means he no longer draws breath on this godforsaken earth and I am no longer clinging onto the hope that I’ll be able to hold him in my arms. But instead, I’m mourning the life he never got to live. The love he never got to experience. The possibility that we could have been the type of love that people have waged wars over and spilled blood for.

That is a reality that I will not accept. One where he doesn’t exist anymore.

* * *

The main housestands like a monolith to a bygone era, its walls so deeply entrenched in the past that its facade hasn’t changed from when the foundations were dug and the first brick was laid. I fear I’ve always known this place was built with the blood of others embedded inside its walls and it’s managed to poison everyone who enters it. Altering them beyond comprehension, it strips away your humanity, cleaves flesh from bone. This house isn’t bricks and mortar; it’s a soul sucking monster pulled out of the depths of hell created for the devil himself.

I enter through the back door, slipping into the boot room and through the kitchen without notice. If the staff see me they turn a blind eye and I wonder how many times they’ve done that when Kayden needed them. When he desperately needed someone to stand up and look out for him.

The stagnant air is thick and cloying making it impossible to draw breath as I traverse the grand hallway. My boots thudding on the pristine white marble tiles as I continue down to the back staircase opposite Neil’s office. The carpet on these stairs is thicker than the main staircase, the pile less compacted through lack of use but not newer like you’d expect from first impressions. Sound travels through these thick walls like you wouldn’t believe but here on these stairs there’s no noise, I can’t hear my footsteps as I head up to the first floor, the only sound is my laboured breathing.

Silence.

This house is as silent as a graveyard, lifeless too. It intrigues my cynical mind to think that there are probably ten people including myself in this mortuary at the moment but I’m certain I would hear a feather land on the tiled floor below me. I feel like I’ve stepped into another world, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, trepidation slithers down my spine like cold fingers, maybe this is the entrance to hell?

For the first time, I’m truly questioning why Kayden’s room is in this part of the house, separated from the rest of us. Isolated in a way I was once jealous of but now it fills me with nothing but dread that crystallises the blood coursing through my veins. Is it on purpose? By Neil’s design? Is this all part of his manipulation, his way of asserting his power and taking control. People obey my father, they don’t question him, they follow blindly like crazed psychopaths—mindless only focused on pleasing their master.

If, and only if that is the case then he knew. Neil knew and allowed Kayden to be abused under his watch. He enabled those that hurt Kayden, gave them access and opportunity. The thought makes acid churn in my stomach, the pain making me double over and fall to my knees as I gasp for breath. The weight of my guilt bearing down on me is insurmountable. My body flushes with fire as my blood freezes my core at a subzero temperature. Crawling to the place that will be both my sanctuary and damnation, I drag my body to Kayden’s door.

Reaching up with clawing hands, I grab and grapple at the handle trying to find the strength to open it but it slips through my grasp, my nails dragging through the wood. Sucking in a shuddering inhale, I find the strength to push through and tumble down onto the exposed wooden floor, commando crawling through it, kicking it shut with my feet. I curl into the foetal position as I try to orientate myself and push back the panic swelling inside me like a storm surge.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I chant through stuttering breaths, clenching my hands into fists in time with my erratic heartbeat. “This isn’t the end.” I pull my knees up tightly to my chest rocking slightly. “This is just a stepping stone.” I remind myself. “I might find answers.” To what I don’t know but maybe the truth of what happened here or where he’s gone, maybe he left clues, a note—something. It’s a fragile hope, viscous, but something I’m clinging to like it’s my last lifeline but in it I find the strength to steady myself enough and haul my arse up and take stock of his room.

Sunlight streams through the gap in the heavy curtains like the hand of god as dust motes dance in the shimmering light, my eyes dart around the space. His room has been left untouched, the sheets still rumpled from when he was last here and a thick layer of dust covers the furniture. If I’d have been hoping he was sequestered away in here I was wrong, so fucking foolish. Failure hangs round my neck like a tightening noose, time is running out for answers.

“I’ll find you, I promise.” I breathe out, the words almost inaudible even to my own ears but it brands my heart in an everlasting vow. I will not give up on him, never again. I know where my heart lives, all I need to do is find him.

I take a deep, grounding breath feeling my feet firmly planted on the floor. His dark, seductive scent hits me like a sucker punch to the chest luring me towards his bed. I collapse face down into his messy, twisted bed sheets, my face landing on his pillow. I bury my nose into the fibres inhaling nothing but him and I’ll gladly suffocate if his scent on my tongue is my last. An animalistic scream shears its way out of my lungs tearing up my throat before obliterating the deafening silence of his room. Emotions hit me like cannon fire, shrapnel embedding in my heart as tears burn like acid pouring from my eyes in a deluge.

I lose myself in my pain, drowning in my agony. Fingers clutching the soft, cold cotton like he’s about to materialise in my arms but it’s futile. I know it but I’m beyond all reason. Too broken, torn apart to even function. I let go, giving myself permission to fall into the void of regret and allowing myself to truly feel everything rather than failing to lock it all down. I grieve. I scream and I drown.

I come to with the snick of the door pulling me back abruptly. I spring up on the bed leaning back on my arms as the room swims and nausea rolls in my gut. Eyes dry and covered in grit, I can’t focus but face the noise on instinct. ”Who’s there?” I croak, my voice hoarse and grating on my throat.

“It’s only me, Mr Dixon,” Sarah says softly. “I brought the boxes up for you that you left in the kitchen.” She shivers, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, the motion big enough for me to see as I blink trying to clear the emotion cobwebbing over my eyes.

“Uh, thank you?”

“I-It’s no problem, Mr Dixon.” She rolls her lips between her teeth, eyes darting around the room as if she’s expecting an axe murderer to jump out at her. “I-is there anything else I can get you?”

“No.” She turns to leave at my abrupt response. “Sarah?”

“Yes?” She winces as she looks at me over her shoulder, the tension lining them blaring at me like a fog horn.

“Do you know what happened here?”

She shuffles on her feet, scuffing them on the floorboards, her gaze staying resolutely on her shoes.”I.. umm…” She exhales shakily. “I know Kayden was a troubled young man?—”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” I cut her off before she can try and fob me off with mundane platitudes, it’s like all the staff sing from the same hymn sheet when it comes to Kayden. “I want you to tell me if you know of what happened here.”

Haunted glassy eyes look up at me, the pale pink of her complexion now the colour of bone. A single tear slips down her cheek as her lips wobble between her teeth. Shaking her head she stares right through me. “We were told never to talk about it?—”

“What?!” I snap.

“Any of it—even with each other.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I demand.

“You don’t question your father, Mr Dixon, you know that. It’s not worth our lives or our families! I need this job, this money—I have…” She sighs, shoulders slumping as if I was physically dragging the words from her. “He forbade us from ever saying anything or helping Kayden. If we heard or saw anything it was to be like we didn’t. We had to turn a blind eye, look away, and forget it all and leave.”

“Y-you, c-can’t be serious?” I whisper in a strangled voice.

A hiccuping cry pierces the room, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorry just isn’t good enough, I can only imagine what she saw but to be able to walk away and do nothing—that is unforgivable.

I look up at her with hate burning in my eyes, “Not as sorry as he is.” My tone inferring everything it needs to as shame washes over her features.

She releases a shuddering exhale as if the weight of the world rests on her shoulders and takes a step backwards closer to the door. “I just hope he’s somewhere better now. This place was killing him. I’ve only been here a few years but…” Crossing her shaking arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell anyone I’ve told you this… I have a child. I-I c-can’t?—”

I raise my hand, cutting her off. “I wouldn’t, I might be my father’s son by DNA but I take after my mother in all the ways that count.”

“So I hear.” Nodding, she gives me a wavering smile, teardrops clinging to her lips. “Find him. Please… before it’s too late.” The click of the door closing lets me know I’m alone with my racing thoughts, my mind in chaos at what she said. Emotion burns my eyes like dry kindling but that ocean has run dry. The implications of her words are not lost on me but that is something I can’t even begin to process right now, one gust of wind and I’d topple like a house of cards built on sand. I’m clutching at my sanity by a fraying thread and this has just tied lead around my feet dragging me down to the bottom of the savage seas.

On shaky feet, I grab the boxes that Sarah left dropping one into the ensuite as I wipe the back of my hand across my nose collecting the moisture that still lingers even as I sniff and place the others next to the bed. I pull back the heavy curtains illuminating the room with the early evening sun, the golden rays melting into the deep blues of the approaching night. Looking out his cloudy windows my eyes are drawn to the forest that edges the manicured grounds, my mind tugging on the memory of the night that Kayden saved me from Thom’s diabolical plan to date rape me. A shiver of revulsion works through me leaving my teeth chattering violently.

That was the night I opened Pandora’s box inside me and set free everything I’d spent years trying to lock down and explain away. That was the night that hell became my heaven as I fell from the expectations of the Dixon name and became a condemned sinner. I burned in righteous flame and I’d never felt more alive. I let myself acknowledge that I loved my stepbrother as more than a brother. Every touch of his cemented the certainty within me that this—him and me—was inevitable and I fucking rejoiced as I began to free myself from the chains of shame that were welded into my skin. Today feels like some kind of cosmic joke that’s come full circle to have been so close to everything I’d wanted and feared for years only to have it ripped from my fingertips.

I grab his discarded clothes off the floor, dump them on the bed and begin to fold and pack them neatly into the box with his bedding—that will be on my bed before the end of the day. Anything to be closer to him, to keep him alive. I pick his jeans up, stick my arm down the inside out leg, pull it out, fold it and place it in the top of the box. I reach down to grab his minging socks off the floor and notice a crumpled piece of paper at my feet.

Snatching it off the floor I carefully unfold it, trying not to rip or damage the delicate paper. My heart is hammering in my mouth as his barely legible scrawl is slowly revealed to my greedy eyes. I clutch it to my chest because this, this is fucking everything, like I’m holding a piece of my beating heart in my hands.

I fall backwards onto the bed needing something solid beneath me as my knees feel too weak to hold me up and the room is spinning. I shuffle and position myself so I’m leaning against the headboard. Tipping my head back, my eyes fall closed, and I count to ten—slowly—taking a deep calming breath with each descending number.

Resting the paper on my pulled up knees, I take a final deep inhale and peel my unwilling eyes open. Exhilarated yet terrified, this could be the hand of god or the final nail in my coffin. If only I had the strength to read his words.

“You can do this,” I mutter to myself. Carding my hand through my hair before letting it fall onto my knee, fingers flexing against my jeans digging into my leg. “You wanted answers.” I know I did, but like a self fulfilling prophecy I’m filled with fear that I might get just what I wished for and if I’m being brutally honest with myself, I’m not ready. For answers, the truth, for anything and everything he might be about to throw my way.

My eyes fall closed once more as I steel myself and look down at his words, the opening line hits me like a tsunami of emotion, my aching eyes burn as the words waver on the page as if being carried off by the receding waters.

You are my only love, Rhys.

“I love you too, angel,” I breathe.

If you find this, know I never intended to hurt you, just help you find yourself and show you your worth. I was never going to be enough and one day, I hope you will understand that.

My lip trembles as his words land like bullets in my chest, flaying me open in the most torturous of ways. Never going to be enough? You are worth more than all the stars in the sky. You mean more to me than my next breath, baby, a lifetime with you wouldn’t be enough. Scalding tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision, as they’re held back by my lashes.

I have loved you always and I’ll love you still…

“I love you, too,” I mouth the words. My hands are vibrating as trepidation turns to gut curdling fear as it slithers across my skin, oozing through my pores, chilling me to the bone. This feels like goodbye, blackness edges my vision, my breath stutters catching in my dry throat.

This feels like a suicide note. “No!” I cry, the word nothing but ash on my tongue. Hands grasping thin air as if I could stop him and turn back time. As if I could pull his apparition into my arms, my body, and keep him safe from the monsters that plague his mind and the devil that hunts him in this world. Images of his broken body flicker through my mind like those expose TV shows where they show you in depth details as to how people died… or were killed.

I have been part of your life for years, and before you know it, I will be gone.

I shake my head, I will never let you go. There’s no escaping me. If you run, I will chase you, and hunt you down. If you hide and lose yourself in the darkness and the demons who torment you. I will find you and bring you into the light. I will never let you go, again. My arms will be the chains that hold you to me, my heart the anchor to keep you still. My love will be the north star to guide you when you are lost.

I’ll never get to be your husband, or stand by your side whilst you raise a family and I know in my heart you will excel at it all. You have more heart than anyone I’ve ever met. You have lived in the light, and I loved every golden facet of it, I can still feel the remnants of your glow.

“You will,” I vow. You will be everything you have ever dreamed of being to me, I will make sure of it… once I have you back. That thought breaks the dam in my eyes, my tears cascading down my cheeks as whispers of dreams of what might be flickering through my mind like shooting stars. Fleeting perfection, unobtainable, untouchable but worthy of chasing to the ends of the earth.

I am the lesson you needed, I am the one who has opened your eyes to all you can be, all you’re worth. I know you still battle with this, you didn’t fail me but you need to be strong and embrace all the possibilities life will send your way because it will. I know it.

I did. I failed you then refused to acknowledge how I felt for you—fuck—I ran from you for years. My fear eating away at me, my obligation weighing me down as I tried to do what I thought was right when it was nothing but wrong. You are right. My love for you is unquestionable. It was always, only you. My purpose, my heart, my everything.

I hope I’ve shown you how much you can be loved because my heart will always be yours. It has beat for you since that fateful day we were thrown together, and it will continue to be your echo evermore. I am the thunder in your lightning storm.

My heart clenches in my chest at the depth of his unwavering love. I was a fool to not see it then. We may have been only children but you have captivated me, my world has orbited around you and I never got to tell you.

I never intended to hurt you but this pain I bear runs too deep and I don’t want to infect you with it. Your life is worth a million of mine. I want to see you rise, don’t aim for the stars because you are far greater than even them. You are the sun, their guiding light. The sun to my moon, twin flames, magnetically drawn together yet fated to be parted forever.

“We will be together again, angel. Just hold on for me, I’m coming,” I promise.

I am a phase. My memory will pass but I hope you hold my lessons in your heart.

I have loved you unconditionally, do not doubt that because I always will. Even when my body is nothing but ash scattered amongst the sands of time my love for you will remain. Untouched and unwavering. Look inside your heart and you will feel it beating alongside your own.

I bring my hand to my chest, my thundering heart crashing against my sternum and I feel the echo of his next to mine. My hand spasms the phantom feel of his heart safely nestled in my palm, the most intoxicating drug I’ve ever felt.

I know that, even though you deny it, there will come a day when you will break my heart. You will move on and love another, more than you could ever have loved me. I was never meant to be your forever.

If I broke you, I’m sorry. My gasping breath chokes as I swallow my whimper down, a fresh wave of tears spilling down my face staining the paper and distorting his precious words. I thought that ocean had run dry but clearly not when my emotions are so palpable and devastating.

You will move on, but my soul never will. I’ll relive the time I’ve spent with you and the lessons I taught you. I just hope you will remember me and all that we were.

“How could I ever forget you, baby?”

I release my stranglehold on the paper and suck in a sharp inhale, the air feeling caustic as it hits my raw throat. I squeeze my eyes shut in a pathetic attempt to stave off the relentless tears escaping me. My body riddled with shrapnel grows weaker with each passing second but my resolve to find him solidifies just as fast. It will cost me everything to put things right but there isn’t a price I’m not willing to pay.

Folding the paper as if it’s crafted from an angel’s wing I tuck it into my jeans as I push up from the bed. I reach back and grab the small baggy of pills off his bedside table, slip it into the pocket of my hoodie, and roll my shoulders attempting to ease the tension radiating through them. Casting a final look around his room, a shrine to his agony, my eyes catch on the locks he’s crudely screwed into the door frame, my stomach revolts at the sight, bile punching from my lips staining his bed. Searing agony batters my body as I empty my stomach onto his bed, finally the physical pain matches the wretched war torn wasteland I feel inside.

My feet are moving before I’m aware, my fingers brushing over the locks on the door frame as I pass through it. I will get your answers, angel, and then I will see to destroying the monsters who thought they could destroy you. Before I know it I’m sliding into my car, my hands white knuckling the leather steering wheel of my Aston Martin and my foot is depressing the accelerator. Gravel churns beneath the wheels as it struggles to gain traction as I floor it down the driveway needing to get as far away from here as humanly possible.

Alden passes in a blur of green fields and trees interspersed with buildings and lifeless husk like people dotted around as if by accident. By the time I reach the dual carriageway the noose loosens around my neck and I’m finally able to draw some semblance of a breath, my body painfully welcoming the oxygen as my vision sharpens and awareness brings clarity to my tumultuous thoughts. I pull off at the next junction and find myself at the door of Elite, an exclusive club for those who are influential enough to know of its existence. I throw my keys at the valet and walk through the dark oak doors ignoring everyone in existence even though I feel eyes on me like I’m some prize carrion and make my way to a dark corner opposite the gaudy austere bar and slump down on the rich leather wing back chair near a crackling open fire.

The heat radiates off the flames enough to take the edge off the numbing chill that’s embedded deeply with the layers of my body right down to the marrow in my bones. A server dressed in a tux walks up to me with a silver platter in one hand with a notebook balanced on it and the other tucked behind his back.

“Mr. Dixon,” he says, his voice far too chipper for the likes of me, I grunt in acknowledgement. He lets loose an exasperated sigh at my cold demeanour. “What can I get you to drink?”

“A bottle of Macallan and a glass.”

“Of course.” He dips his head before heading towards the bar to collect my drink.

I dig my hands into my hoodie searching for the small baggie with a couple of white pills in it and dump it on the small side table next to me. Before I can even blink the server is back placing a cut crystal tumbler down beside an open bottle of Macallan. “Would sir like me to pour?” His judgmental eyes locked on the baggy on the table, disdain marring his features but as with people of my station, he holds his tongue waiting patiently for my answer.

“No. I’ve got it, just leave me in peace.” He nods once spinning on his heel. “Before you go.” My voice catches his attention halting him mid step. “Do not under any circumstances, call my father. He’s away on business and my visit here is not any of his concern, understand?” He casts a quizzical glance over me, pocketing the fifty pound note I hold aloft in his direction.

“As you wish, Mr Dixon, discretion is what we are known for. I’ll make sure no one contacts your father from the staff but if I was you,” he pins me beneath his cold glare, “stay away from the morning room and the orangery.” I arch my brow waiting for him to explain. “Some of your father’s business associates are at the club today, for a ‘meeting’.” The way he spits the word meeting like it’s poisonous tells me all I need to know. Old rich white men are here to indulge in a little off the books depravity with most likely under age girls. A full body shudder rattles my teeth in my gums. “Quite. Is there anything else I can get you?” I shake my hand offering him another fifty to cement his silence and by unspoken agreement to keep my father’s associates away from me. He pockets the money and leaves me to tend to the other patrons.

A fine tremor runs through my hand as I pick up the glass and bring it down on the pills in the baggie, crushing them to a fine powder and depositing them in the bottom of the cut crystal tumbler. I pour in a healthy two fingers of scotch and watch the powder fizzle and dissolve into the warm honeyed liquid. I swirl the glass in my hand mesmerised by the rise and fall of the liquid as I wait for the last dregs to dissipate and knock it back in one swallow.

The scotch burns, warming me from the inside out like a golden fire coating the raw, red flesh inside me, the acidic aftertaste of the pills coating my tongue with a chalky texture. My eyes flutter closed as I try to sink into the feeling of oblivion but the shrill ring of my phone sinks its claws into my consciousness refusing to let me go. With a heavy sigh, I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and answer without looking. “Yes,” I grind out through gritted teeth.

“Ah, Rhys, my boy, I heard you were back in town.” Dr Grey says, his voice offering a level of comfort I desperately need right now.

“I am,” I all but slur. “Back for Christmas, and…” My voice trails off, unable to get the words out.

“I did hear. I’m so sorry for what’s happened if there’s anything?—”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” I offer almost at my physical and mental limit for peopling today. “What can I do for you?” The buzz humming through my veins to build a lulling darkness pulling my consciousness away from the room and the voice on the end of the line.

“I need a favour, a friend,” he hums. “Well, more of a colleague is looking for help over the next month at her facility.”

“I see.” My head lulls to the side, my eyes staring unseeingly at the flickering flames dancing on the logs. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“I would like to put your name forward.”

“Ooh?” My lips feel numb and tingly as if an electrical pulse is passing through them turning them to immovable rubber.

“It would look good on your record and help broaden your horizons and you never know it might help you with processing what you’re going through.” My mind focuses on his last words ‘ process what you’re going through’ as if there is some easy fix to bring back someone who has vanished into thin air that my father refuses to search for and every time I try he shuts it down making me look like a raving fool.

“Sure, I can go meeeet with heeer,” I slur, sounding more like Baymax than myself. My eyes fall closed as Dr Grey rattles off sometime about dates and times but my mind is slipping away. “Just send mee… the deeeeetailssss…”

“Yes. Brilliant! Of course I’ll send it over right now. And Rhys? Make sure to hydrate when you come around…” His voice trails off as the overwhelming need to sleep takes hold and my eyes fall shut and I drift off into blessed unconsciousness.

I found your letter, angel. It fell out of the pocket of your jeans landing at my feet like an offering from the gods—if those fuckers even exist. I felt like a man dying of thirst and each word of yours was a drop of life sustaining water that I desperately needed.

You fucking broke me, again. I thought my ocean of tears had dried up after I spent hours crying for you, mourning you in your bed—that still smelt like you. Fuck!

You broke me again, your shrapnel embedding in my body piercing my skin and sinking deep into my blood. It’s travelling around my body right now slowly working its way to my heart. I hope it slices that useless muscle deeply and I feel every second of it.

Pain makes me feel alive. Closer to you and I think it helps me understand you a little bit better too. I understand the need to crave it and hold it close like it’s the only way to distinguish what’s real and what’s not. Although those lines are blurring more and more each day. With each rise of the sun I lose another part of myself, to you. To them… the world.

There’s too much weight now, all the stress that I’m trying to hide. It’s just a matter of time until I break down… I found a bottle of your pills hidden in the bathroom cupboard and I really want to take them. It feels like I’m walking in the devil’s playground, he’s watching me and laughing as I’m searching for you.

I feel braindead, my head’s filled with rain clouds. There’s no thunder in my lightning storm…but I’ll chase it to the end of forever trying to find it. Find us again.

I don’t feel like I can trust anyone, no one understands what I’m going through—no one other than you. I’m trapped in a nightmare, baby, and I don’t care because it’s the only way I can be close to you.

You were never are not a phase!!!! There is no one else for me. Never will there ever be anyone else for me but YOU! It’s you or nothing. In this life, the next, and every fucking one that comes after.

It would be so easy to give up now. I’ve crushed your pills, they were sitting in the bottom of a glass of scotch but now they’re fusing with my blood. I hate the stuff but to be able to see you again I drank it… to taste your lips once more.

I’d do fucking anything for you.