Page 101 of Capturing Sin

This was what I’d wanted. To finally be free of demons and hunters and violence.

So why did I feel like someone had carved open my chest and shredded my insides?

You knew your life was messed up when your enemy treated you better than your family. When a demon showed more kindness than the humans sworn to protect people.

But it was more than that. Every time Sin taunted me and I bit back, it revealed the backbone I thought I’d lost under the years of brutality my uncle dealt out.

The wicked demon made me feel alive. Like a real person worth more than my last name or the lives I could take.

Being around him had chipped away the loneliness and guilt smothering me, until hope seeped in through the cracks, despite the sins of my past.

Swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, I tried to scrape the tattered pieces of myself together. Now was my chance to flee. To start a new life.

A small voice screamed inside my head, What life?

I couldn’t get the image of Sin’s face out of my head. That flash of betrayal in his eyes sliced through me. More silent tears overflowed, chilled by the harsh night.

My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. The pain helped focus me, even as it paled compared to the ache in my chest.

I altered course, heading for the trio of high-rise buildings lit up in the distance. My cramped flat had the cash I’d been saving up for an opportunity just like this. I needed to break in, pack my meagre belongings, and leave Riverside behind. Along with all the hunters and demons. The violence and heartache.

Time blurred as I jogged through the dark streets in the early hours. The suburban houses were silent apart from the occasional barking dog. More sounds filtered in as I passed into the rougher neighbourhoods: parties spilling bass-heavy music, yelled arguments, revving engines.

Finally, I slipped into my building, quickly heading up the stairs towards my floor, avoiding the broken glass littering the worn carpet like confetti.

I didn’t have my apartment keys, but the peeling door was flimsy enough.

I kicked it in with a loud bang, enjoying the satisfaction that came with destroying a part of the place that had trapped me for so long.

None of my neighbours even popped their heads out to investigate the noise.

I huffed under my breath, storming inside. Everything looked exactly as I’d left it when I’d hurried off to work three days ago.

The only thing different was me.

I snagged my emergency go bag, packing a couple more essentials, and grabbed my pouch of cash, stored in one of the many fist-shaped holes in the plasterboard. A fun decoration from a previous tenant.

Slinging my pack onto my shoulder, I took one last look around my apartment.

Everything was dingy. Worn. Tired. Broken.

If that wasn’t a depressing metaphor for my life, I didn’t know what was.

My chest ached. The past few days playing house with Sin had really put my depressing life into perspective.

Somewhere out there, a family was living my dream life. They had smiling pictures of their loved ones on the walls. Meaningful trinkets from adventures worth remembering. A cosy, safe space to rest. Enough food to eat. Money to waste on trivial things like scented candles and hair conditioner.

I bet they didn’t have scars covering their bodies. A constant patchwork of cuts and bruises adding to the collection. I bet you couldn’t see their ribs poking through. I bet they weren’t a quick turn away from passing out.

I bet their hands weren’t drenched in blood.

I bet they dreamed at night, not woke up sobbing with a cry on their lips.

My mind tried to fracture under the weight of everything.

Through sheer stubborn will, I held myself together.

I just needed to get far away from here, and then everything would be all right. I could find a safe place to have that breakdown that had been looming for years.

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