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“Men are so unwell.”
Only anger remained. How dare he take what was ours? The three of us got to our feet as the screams in the hall increased. He threatens Arabella. Must protect her. Must get her back. Must keep her close. She’s ours, nobody else’s.
The fireplace was empty, and no flames screamed at me like usual. Disappointing. I missed the shrieks. The screaming flames added a certain je ne sais quoi to the room. An ambiance if you will. They matched my aesthetic.
Yes, my aesthetic was mental illness; no, I didn’t want to talk about it.
The delusion was that I thought I was fine. It was a vicious cycle. Truly traumatic.
My shoulders ached from carrying the weight of being the coolest person at the academy.
I was no man’s princess. However, I was a whore. Being a slut wasn’t a title, it was a lifestyle.
Did he think my tits were fish that were going to flop away? Because he was grabbing at them like they were.
The rational part of me gasped with horror while the irrational part of me casually noted that the deceased body fit well with my vibe. Sometimes life was a chill, but then there were the horrors. It was exhausting being a girl.
Men had no emotional range.
this was beyond weird. I didn’t have peaceful thoughts. Ever.
“Sorry I didn’t respond, I was purposefully ignoring you.”
“I recommend just preemptively euthanizing yourself. Your personality is messy, and I don’t see it improving.”
I was a grim reaper in a woman’s body. It was obvious what was happening. I needed a shopping trip.
My body was crumbling under the stress of not being able to buy pretty clothes. I was degrading on a cellular level.
Men were such simple, primitive creatures.
I mean, the woman had been clinically insane. No judgment though.
No, I didn’t want a man to call me baby girl. Gag. But that didn’t mean a man wouldn’t want to call me baby girl. The distinction mattered.
Never mind—death to all men.
I forgot how to breathe. He was kneeling atop me wantonly, but he was acting casual like it was perfectly acceptable for him to straddle me. Was this normal friend behavior?
Apparently, he really had been napping and not in a stress-induced coma. Disappointing.
If I had any self-esteem, it would have been crushed. Good thing I had none.
No. Coping was not a linear process.
“Should we kill them?” “The kings?” I asked. “Mm-hmm,” he confirmed as he played with one of my curls. “For sure.” I closed my eyes and enjoyed his warmth. “But right now? That seems a little aggressive.” Sometimes a girl was just too tired to murder. My creative killing juices weren’t flowing.
Men thought they were so big and scary, but a gossiping woman was evil incarnate. They knew how to eviscerate a person with a few words. I aspired to be like them.
Men were ignorant, dumb, ugly creatures. Frankly, I was done interacting with them. It wasn’t good for my constitution.
Normalize gaslighting men.
“Don’t fall apart now.” He flashed his dimples and whispered, “It will ruin our street cred.” I choked. “What street cred?”
We grinned at each other. Respectfully, we were hilarious.
From a purely sexual standpoint, I’d do them.
Unattractive men were kind of hot. I’d fuck them.
I waited for something to happen, aka prayed Tal would accidentally stab Malum with his sword. Neither man said anything else. Pussies.
In a religious way, immediate smash. In a realistic way, hard pass.
“Kind of fun,” she whispered at the same time I said, “We’re so screwed.”
Unsurprisingly, I’d become the problem. Again.
I wasn’t ready for the psychological torment to begin tomorrow, because I was already tortured. Not to be dramatic.
Everyone slept peacefully. Not relatable.
Dissociating wasn’t fun when you knew you were just pretending. I couldn’t even pretend that I wanted to pretend.
Mentally, I was a slut. Physically, I was terrified of intimacy. Spiritually, I didn’t like men. I was confused.
I might act stupid, but I wasn’t dumb.
I didn’t pull away and slap him across the face like I should have. I tipped my head back further and greedily pressed against him. It made sense. It was time to stop being self-aware, whatever I did was none of my business.
He had bigger tits than I did. There was a long moment where I debated the merits of buying him a bra and gifting it to him.
I needed immediate professional help.
Yes, I was delusional. Next question.
I choked on a laugh at my sarcastic thoughts. Every day, I got sexier and funnier.
“I don’t care,” I huffed. In reality, if I lost to them, I’d off myself.
“Good girl, such a good girl,” John mumbled under his breath absentmindedly as he worked on a gash on my forehead. Suddenly, I forgot how to breathe. A different type of pain streaked across my spine. He’s your friend, don’t make it weird. You’re just confused and have lost a lot of blood.
I was not falling for a man just because he was nice to me. That was pathetic.
“If anyone looks at your naked body, I’ll kill them.”
didn’t bother to respond. You couldn’t reason with crazy.
