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I wasn’t always this way. Most blame others for their demons. We’re all victims one way or another, right? But not me. There’s no one else to blame. I got this way all on my own. I’m the fucking monster in this story.
“Having a quirky brain isn’t always a bad thing, Eli.”
Sometimes being alive is fun, but only occasionally.
She’s broken in a way that is plain as day to me, calling out to my own greedy demons. I’ve always loved breaking things, and she’s teetering on the edge of destruction.
I want nothing more than to shove her off the precipice and follow her all the way down to the depths of Hell.
“We’re all cowards, Kade. Running scared from our pasts, avoiding the inevitable. It always finds its way back to us in the end.”
When I was playing the good guy, she stubbornly pushed me away. But now that I’ve owned my mistakes and shared my darkness with her? She’s cuddling up like a goddamn puppy and bathing in the grief.
Have you ever felt like a stranger in your own life? People talk to you, call your name… but none of it feels real. You’re trapped behind glass watching your life simply pass by, one disaster at a time.
We’re like two broken shards of glass, smashed and scattered beyond repair. As the pieces mingle together, you can’t tell which bit came from where. It doesn’t even matter anymore. You just have a worthless mess, but it’s still irreplaceable.
She may be a monster, but she’s my fucking monster. I decide whether she’s guilty or not.
“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.”
