Page 121 of Broken Shadows

Samuel's face as he laughed and threw me in here, a wide, unhinged smile plastered across his face. He wouldn’t stop and fucking listen to me.

Fuck.

This isn’t a dream.

I never wanted Evangeline, or the fucking throne for that matter, but now it’s clear that his reasons for helping Evangeline have nothing to do with taking the crown for himself. No, it's all about his sick and beyond toxic obsession with Evangeline.

I'm not sure if the witch fabricated his feelings for her or if he genuinely wants her enough to destroy our family. Perhaps I would feel less devastation if that were the case, but I fucking doubt it. Samuel and I never saw eye to eye, even as adolescents. He could not resolve himself to the fact that he would always be the second-born son.

I used to blame his behavior on the fact that he’s Envy, but he's so far gone now that my madness wants absolutely nothing to do with his.

When I found Evie, the utter desolate hopelessness that was my constant companion diminished, then disappeared altogether. But there is no denying that the speed at which it returns fucking guts me.

I try to get my thoughts away from this dangerous path, but I can’t. I’m too godsdamn weak.

The bars of my cage leached every drop of magic from my bones, my shadows and demon powers completely evaporating.

The cold, damp stones rush to meet my back as I give into gravity.

Absolutely cracked and disturbed laughter looses from my throat as I recognize why one of the many reasonsthis stintin my cage feels so very different.

I no longer fight with my madness.

In the past, I fought against it as it worked to draw my present mind into my subconscious, eviscerating me forever. To lock me in a cage of its own making and bury it beneath the black sands of my most morbid thoughts and dreams.

But now I know the bitter truth—it wanted to protect me. We’ve come to an understanding and everything about it feels different… as if it actuallyisa positive response to the trauma I’ve endured.

It's still always present, even in my non-waking hours. However, I don't bear any bitterness towards it or resent its existence. I welcome the blurred, dark oblivion it offers, and willingly sink beneath the sand, no metaphorical cage necessary.

I float here deep under miles of sand manifested by my subconscious, oblivious to my real surroundings even though they claw, and claw, and fucking claw at my psyche, just waiting for the opportunity to slice through it and erase me once and for all.

An emotion that I don’t have the energy to decipher swarms like an absolutely pissed off hive of killer Hell-bees. Their black and purple bodies fight for the chance to stab my organs with their jagged toxic barbs, clashing their wings, gnashing their fangs, and decorating my insides with rich violet blood.

I don't fight them.

I lie there, letting the obsidian sand cover my open eyes and worm its way into my ears and mouth. It’s almost peaceful here in this numb existence.

An intrusive thought gouges its way into my mind.Evie.Is she safe? If anything has happened to her, this is the fate I deserve. Perhaps, the one that I havealwaysdeserved.

Yes, drowning in sorrow is absofuckinglutely fitting. I welcome the sand pouring into me and filling my body cavity. Pain, desirous raw pain lacerates my guts as the soft, soothing sand transforms into millions of sharp, forgotten puzzle pieces, cutting me open with endless paper cut like lacerations from the inside out.

My mouth opens as I laugh, gagging on the sand that’s swiftly clogging my esophagus.

Not too long ago, I thought of Evie as such a puzzle piece, minus the blade-like edges, but perhaps, that’s what was missing all along.

Our jagged, sharp, and blood-stained pieces haven’t been forced together. No, my little witch’s edges carved into mine until she nestled inside my fucking soul, the wounds she inflicted healing and sealing us together for eternity.

I inhale and greedily consume the sand deep into the membranes of my lungs.

How can I protect her when it was so easy for them to toss me away, to lock me in this cage, to be forgotten amongst the memories caked into the bowels of the castle?

I twist and writhe further into the blade-like puzzle pieces, encouraging their honed edges to slice into the outside of my skin as well.

This feels… right.

I gasp and cough as the safety of my madness’ hold fades, and scorching agony burns across my chest and thighs where they press against my cage. Any magic that has trickled into me during my spell of delirium seeps from me like it's my life's blood.

Drip.

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