Page 10 of Like A Moth To A Flame

I didn’t want to leave. Something in my chest screamed at me to stay, but I knew better.

These things took time.

Love took time.

And time was something I had plenty of.

As I slipped back out the window, a cool breeze ruffled my jacket, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and pine. Every step away from her felt like a million needles pricking at my skin, urging me to turn back. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I needed to bide my time, to watch and wait for the perfect moment to make my move. To make her mine.

As I retraced my steps back to the tree line, my mind raced with thoughts of her. Her laughter, her voice, the way her hair danced in the evening breeze. She was feisty, like a feral cat, forced to abandon her kittenhood and learn to fend for herself, but I knew I could tame her. I just needed to be patient.

I slipped into the shadows and pressed my back against the rough bark of the oak tree, watching as the old farmhouse faded into the night. The whispering voices that pried into my brain had never ceased. Now, tonight, my demons seemed louder than ever.

But I wouldn’t let them win.

She wasn’t the only one who needed protection.

As I strolled out of the treeline and into the moonlit night, I knew I had to focus my attention elsewhere for now.

I had to keep my darkness contained.

But that didn’t mean I’d forget about her. Oh, no. I’d keep her close to my heart, like a secret flame that would only grow brighter with each passing day.

After all, the world was a cruel and unforgiving place, and the darkness that lurked within me was a part of that. It was a necessary part, a tool that I could use, a weapon that I could wield when needed. I couldn’t do my job without that darkness.

The stars above, cold and distant, seemed to mock my solitude as I walked away, disappearing into the velvet darkness of the night. But I didn’t mind. I was used to being alone.

4

Must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm

Moth

When my eyes cracked open the next morning, I pulled the comforter up over my head, refusing to give in to the bright morning sunlight. The aching throb in my bladder only gave me a few more minutes, and I was tossing the blanket away and forcing myself out of bed. I stumbled down the hall and into the bathroom without even bothering to turn the light on.

It was muscle memory.

Funny how that worked. Even after all these years, it was like I’d been here all along.

When I finished, I heard the telltale squeak of the screen door popping open, and by the time I pulled my shorts up, there was a full-blown knock on the door and I groaned.

So many people. Too much social time.

My anxiety was screaming inside my head, and all I could do was shake it away. Most likely, it was another of Dad’s cop buddies, giving their condolences and asking if I needed anything.

Yeah, I need you all to leave me alone,I thought to myself, hurrying out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

Pulling the door open, I saw a familiar face and hiked on a warm smile.

“Hey, Tammy!” I said, trying my best to sound cheerful. At least, I hoped I sounded cheerful and not annoyed.

Tammy was a teacher’s aide at the local elementary, and she’s been a family friend for as long as I could remember. Perpetually smelling of nicotine, her blonde hair and brown eyes looked the same as I remembered them in first grade, minus a few crow’s feet and sun spots. She was a tad thicker in the middle, but who wasn’t?

“Hello darlin’”, she said, flashing me a tight-lipped smile. The same southern drawl I remembered.

“Everything okay?”

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