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The silence breeds my Synaesthesia, my senses strung tight from all the words trapped inside. Yet the more overwhelmed my mind becomes, the less I’m able to communicate.
I’ve been in and out of institutions since I got my scars, so much that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have free will. To experience normality. To breathe without being watched. To have aspirations, dreams, or hope.
What kind of cruel joke is it when I’m stuck here, and my goddamn abuser is at peace in death?
“I’m his emergency contact,
“You’re his emergency contact?”
“He doesn’t have anyone else. We’re it. I put my name down the day we took him in.”
If there’s one thing about Kade that I admire most, it’s his determination to fix the entire goddamn world. I’ll tell you another thing—it’s going to be the death of him one day.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. I’m done being the calm one in this stupid fucking family.”
Best friend, asshole. I’m his best fucking friend.
No one threatens my firecracker and gets away with it.
None of us are bloody innocent here. She may be a monster, but she’s my fucking monster. I decide whether she’s guilty or not.
Your sins don’t have to define you.”
This girl will destroy me, and everything I’ve worked for.
It’s all too much; I can’t keep doing this. Picking up everyone’s fucking broken pieces over and over. I’ve got enough of my own to contend with.
Brooklyn can’t escape her past while it continues to torment her. I’ll never be able to fix that, no matter how many times I stitch her up or make her smile. Some scars simply run too deep.
I can’t lose my firecracker to the demons in her head. None of us will be able to live with ourselves.
Me. I’m the product of evil. I’m ready to inflict some pain of my own.
“You should know that I’m falling in love with her,” he adds.
The guys are all fucking enraptured, just like me. Inexplicably drawn to the beautiful, chaotic disaster that is Brooklyn West and her crazy goddamn head.
Losing my blackbird is unimaginable.
Brooklyn’s brought us together against the odds. Now, we’ve both got to work to save her.
I have a feeling that we’ve only glimpsed the horrors that happen behind closed doors.
Life is fucking temporary, fleeting in its brutality. It ends and begins, trapped on an endless loop that most are powerless to escape.
“Nothing about this place is real, Brooklyn. Don’t you see that yet? It’s all just…” He pauses, grinning and searching for the right word. “An illusion.”
“Off you go. I can’t wait to tell the others about this. I’ll be given a fucking promotion. You’ve proven mighty interesting. I’m glad Augustus decided to bring you into the program.”
“Y-You’re not a real patient. Are you?”
Rio strokes my cheek with something akin to pride, happy to boast his true status. “You’ve been fun, but it’s time. Goodbye, Brooklyn.”
Eli wiggles his fingers; coaxing, encouraging, imploring me to return to him.
“L-Live,” he struggles out. “W-We… live.”
Eli’s devastating gaze burrows beneath my skin and attacks the tendrils of hatred around my heart. I take a shuddering breath. More tears fall. My body shakes. The wind howls. Eli’s hand clutches mine painfully tight.
“Live… f-for me. For us.”
All because Elijah Woods is me. Broken pieces held together by bitter resentment and determination to take up less goddamn space in the world.
He hasn’t left her side since the roof, possessively clinging to her out of fear.
We’re her family now. Come hell or high water.
“We figure out how to keep her alive, no matter what it takes.”
“Something’s wrong with this place. We need to find out what is really happening, and somehow conceal the fact that it was us who threw Rio off that fucking roof.”
