My Dearest Darkest

by Kayla Cottingham

“Nervous.” “About?” “Everything,”

How easily they walk into a trap, a voice whispered softly within her mind. Humans are but animals, I suppose. And all animals can be lured with the right bait.

She didn’t have the energy to explain anything to anyone. She didn’t want to be this way. Like someone who couldn’t handle the motions of a normal life. But on days like that—when she awoke in a pile of still-crusty Lean Cuisines and couldn’t fathom washing her hair—that was how she felt. All she could do was curl up and wait for the dark storm cloud of her emotions to pass over.

at her core, was a modest person who craved one thing: undivided attention.

“You told off Kyra?” Finch nodded. “Yep. And then I walked down the hall to a different bathroom and had a panic attack.”

“Fearsome is so much more useful than pretty.”

Part of her feared the heat with which her rage burned within her, but another—most of her, in fact—welcomed it.

Am I still a monster If I run my fingers through your hair And kiss you to sleep? Baby, you’re in too deep.