Page 24 of Kings Fear No One
Over the days to come, I take notice of when the guards take their breaks. After my infirmary stay, they confiscated the dull-bladed knife I had, but I find a small block of wood in the grass, which I slip into my pocket. It can be whittled down to a sharp point with some work.
Teysha catches me by the spigot, filling up my canteen. My thoughts are on how late into the night the guards stay on patrol and hers are on the pleas she’s making.
Begging me to look at her.
In tears over how distant I’ve been.
Then Xavier shows up and deals the final blow.
“The Leader’s requested your presence. You’ll be spending the night.”
The breath’s taken out of my lungs better than any punch to the gut could have.
I can’t bring myself to do anything but sink into the pain. Let the sick reality take form. There’s no fighting, no escaping except…
It’s this endless hell on earth or the hell in the afterlife—if one exists.
The latter seems like it’d be more bearable each day that goes by.
I turn my back on Teysha and let Xavier drag her away, knowing what she’ll be subjected to, hating myself for being so fucking weak I can’t put a stop to it.
Hating myself so much I feel like I can’t survive in my own skin.
The disgust rises up ‘til it’s overtaken me, a self-loathing that runs so deep it’s become an inescapable part of myself.
So has the rage.
The sheer, unparalleled rage that I’ve failed. I’m useless.
As illogical as it sounds, I become angry with her too. Angry she’s become his favorite. Angry that she’s given into him and I thought I could get us out.
Suddenly, maybe with more clarity than I’ve ever had, I get Grace.
I understand what she did and why. Teysha might come to get it too someday.
I always thought it was pussies who did it. Failures who couldn’t hang. Weak people seeking the easy way out.
I was too unbreakable. There was nothing I feared and nobody who could have that power over me.
But as the afternoon hits and I overhear Brody telling Amos about tonight’s ceremony where Teysha will be initiated from believer to saint, my mind’s made up. It turns out I’m not as unbreakable as I thought. I’m running scared. Giving up and tapping out.
I can’t live with it anymore.
Amos and Brody are the ones guarding me at the back house. I take my time stuffing the linens into the washing machines and pouring the detergent. I’m waiting for their break. Just a few minutes unsupervised so I can get it done.
The shaved down hunk of wood rests in my pocket.
They step out for a smoke at half past the hour.
I glance around, digging the sharp hunk of wood out. It comes up against my throat, my pulse racing.
On the count of three.
Gritting my teeth, I prepare myself to rip the Band-Aid off and do it. I press the wooden shiv harder ‘til it’s piercing my skin and the first bead of blood oozes out.
All I’ve got to do is push a little more. Jam the shiv into my throat and slice away. I’ll bleed out in minutes.
Three.
