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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.
Some are worse than others, but we’re all fucking broken. We are the rejects of society, stuck in a broken system all in the name of experimentation.
“Eli has a rare condition called lexical-gustatory synaesthesia,” Kade begins. “Essentially, it means that he can… taste emotions.”
“Fuck, I think you might be my new favourite,” Phoenix gasps. She laughs, returning to her half-eaten apple like nothing happened. We’re in for trouble with this one.
Feelings are toxic to me. Numbness is my preferred state of being.
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.
Social skills aren’t exactly my forte. I’m a fucking mute, so I struggle with this kind of shit.
She looks like a beautiful fucking disaster, one that I can’t wait to see unfold.
She refuses to look away, and it’s killing me. Is this what it feels like to be seen?
There’s no way to describe the taste of this emotion. I’ve never experienced it before.
I’ll pull her hair, bruise her skin and drag her down into the depths of Hell with me, no matter how much it’ll kill her inside. Life fucking hurts, and I want her to experience it with me.
“Nobody is all good, Brooke. We’re all somewhere on the spectrum of morality, dabbling in shades of grey. There’s no such thing as good and bad. Not really.”
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.
Hudson. Phoenix. Eli. And now? Brooklyn too. We’re family, and no one goes down on my watch.
Then there’s Hudson. His hand is pressed to his abdomen, but he doesn’t even look phased by the bleeding injuries I inflicted. His attention is focused on me as I’m taken away, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and pity. I hate them. I hate them all. I hope my death kills them.
Hudson tucks it into the back pocket of his ripped, black jeans and before she can finish getting an insult out, he scoops her small body up, crushing her to his broad chest.
Hudson flinches so hard, it looks like it hurts. He deliberately avoids looking at us. I can almost see the shame crawling over his suddenly blank face as he looks away from us all.
My mouth waters as he presses the blade to his skin and draws it across, eliciting an immediate release. His shoulders slump and his face relaxes as the blood flows.
Our attention is focused on the knife clutched tightly in his hand. Blood streams from his wrist to his elbow in crimson rivulets, and my fingers ache with the need to snatch it away. But not to stop him. Fuck no, I want it for myself.
His hand stops me, holding me in place as he shakes his head. That dark smile is lopsided and knowing. Fuck, he wants this as much as I do. How twisted is that?
My hand is still shaking and pathetic, but he doesn’t judge. Not my Eli.
Filled with this odd sense of pride, I want him to see my artwork and appreciate it for himself, one cutter to another. It’s like a rite of passage, this intimate sharing of our battle scars, inflicted by the ultimate enemy—ourselves.
Everything about this is wrong. Unhealthy. Toxic. Messed up.
This complicated, broken man wants to help me in the only way he knows how. He even has the sweetness to ask before doing it.
As he draws it across my wrist, I wonder if he feels it—this unexplainable bond between us, like kindred souls reunited at last.
We’re two lone wolves circling one another, both intrigued and a little afraid. I wonder what that feeling tastes like to him.
Eli hesitates, his hand wrapping around my neck to gain my attention. Squeezing my throat until I’m gasping for air, the question in his eyes is clear. Even after all of this, he still wants my consent. That’s a real fucking gentleman. The same gentleman that just sliced my skin and liked it.
Her wide eyes flickered with something other than pain before shutting down again, but I saw it. Something’s there, buried beneath the surface. I’ll find it again, no matter what it takes.
Hudson doesn’t want my help? Fine. Let’s see how he likes it when I steal his girl. Then he’ll know how it feels to be disregarded.
Lowering to his level, Phoenix slides a finger under Eli’s chin, tilting his head just enough so that their eyes can meet. Their lips are inches apart, while their faces are intimately close. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were lovers.
He latches on to the comfort of pain just like I knew he would. We’re the same fucking person.
Walk in. Give it all up and offer yourself to the flames. This is your best chance. Do it. Give up.
“She was my fucking girl, and no one was allowed to steal her from me. Not even a stupid bird. After that… I called her blackbird every day. Just to remind her of who exactly she belonged to, and that nothing else was allowed to matter to her. Only me.”
Jesus, who am I kidding? I know what happened to her. It’s all my fault. I fucking ruined her.
I’ll break her all over again if I have to, one stupid bird at a time. Whatever it takes to bring her back to me.
The schoolgirl I once knew doesn’t exist anymore. My blackbird grew up.
She isn’t allowed to breathe if it’s not for me.
Call me sick, but I can’t help smiling at her. The yelling and hatred show that she still cares. Somewhere, deep down, there are feelings. I can work with that.
One tiny taste, and I’m on my knees just where she left me, broken and begging for another chance.
But this time, I won’t be walking away from her. She’s been mine since the day I laid my eyes on her five long years ago. When I get back, I’m gonna make sure she fucking knows it.
picking up my copy of The Handmaid’s Tale. I’m supposed to be reading it for class, but I only picked it up to tear pages out and see if I could cut myself with the edges.
