Page 44 of Pretty Little Fears

Herthoughts of trouble and terror, soothed simply by my presence.Imade sure she returned home safely and spent the night outside of her window.Regardlessof the lateNovemberchill,Iwas insistent on keeping watch.

I’mexhausted, but there’s no lengthIwouldn’t go to protect her.Blairhad explained what happened on the way back to her house.Withall of the disappearances lately,Iunderstood her fear.Thankfully, she’s been sharing her location with me sinceIfirst put my number into her phone.

Shedoesn’t know she is and it's better that way.Ineed to make sureIcan get to her at all times.Lastnight was an example of that.

Butthis morning,Iwoke up to a text from daddy fucking dearest requesting my presence again.Howmany times does he need to call me into his office to tell me what a useless piece of shitIam?Oncea day for the first eighteen years was enough, now it’s a bit excessive.Ifucking get it.

Throwingon black slacks and a matching dress shirt,Islip on my shoes and walk out the door.

Irun up the steps of the main building, striding through the doors and around the corner that leads to the hallway which houses his office.Mysteps falter and my blood runs cold.

Downthe hall,Ispot a familiar head of icy white hair.Myheart rate picks up andIdon’t know where to go.Myfeet are glued to the floor and bile rises in my throat.

Ican't draw in a single breath of air, and black starts to seep into my vision.Thethumping of my erratic heart begins to be overpowered by the ringing that assaults my ears.Myfist clenches and unclenches repeatedly, asIfight to control the rage that boils inside of me.Fuck.

FUCK.

Ihave to get out of here.

Ispin on my heel and dash out the door.Irun untilI’mout of breath, untilIhave nowhere left to go, until allIhear around me is silence.Ido my best to manage the mania that threatens to overtake me.Everythingis a blur and beforeIknow it,I'mat my front door, turning the key in the lock, and walking into my home.

Idon't register the sounds of my roommates’ voices asItake big strides across the house and to my room.Stumblingthrough the doorway,Ifall back against the door as it closes.

Islide down as thoughts of my childhood slither into my head.Flickeringthrough like a slideshow, each memory digging the knife deeper into my chest.

Mybreathing starts to come in heavier pants as the feeling of unwanted hands creeps up my body.Theringing gets louder.

Andlouder.

Andfucking louder.

Untilit's allIhear.UntilI'vebeen consumed by the black ink covering my vision.Myteeth begin to chatter and a tingly feeling shoots down my back.Themonster locked deep inside of me is gnawing at the confines of his cage.

Hewas one of them.Oneof the men my father let into our home after my mother’s death.Oneof the men that ruined me whenIwas just a young boy.Notonly was he one of them, he was the worst fucking one.

Ican't seem to decipher what’s reality and what isn't, as phantom hands continue to touch me, leaving filth in their path.Theirhands leave my skin but the burn of their touch remains.Markingme forever as theirs, ruining me for eternity.

Fuck.

FUCK!

FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!

Liftingoff the floor,Ipace my room, probably looking like a wild animal who has just been caught and is trying to free itself.Myhair is disheveled and my fists haven’t stopped clenching.Ilook over and spot myself in the mirror.

Theshared eyes with my father look back at me, harboring my pain.BeforeIcan process whatI'mdoing my arm is reeling back andI'mslamming my fist against the mirror.

Shardsof glass penetrate my skin and my knuckles split.Blooddrips down my hand andIrepeat the process until there's nothing left.It'snow thatIwishedIcould've gotten the soft, blue eyes of my mother.Thelove behind her sky blue gaze.

Thereminder of her causes my thoughts to switch over to a time when my mother was alive.Ifelt nothing but loved by her.Iremember a faint sadness following her around, but when it was just us, the world was quiet and everything was right.

Everythingwas okay.

Ibattled with my emotions towards her for a long time after her death.Iwas angry that she selfishly took her life and left me with a monster lurking in our home.Shenever would’ve allowed those people under our roof.Thedemons that hide behind their masks didn't shed their facade until after she had left this world, and me, behind.

I'mno longer harboring that anger towards her.Now,Isometimes wish thatIcould join her in her peaceful slumber.Anythingto escape the claws of my past that sink deep.

ThedayIfound my mom flashes to the forefront of my mind.Herlifeless body dangling from our balcony.Thehands that once held me were blue from the lack of blood flow, her feet matching them in color.Heropened, bloodshot eyes felt like they were peering straight into my soul.Theusual sparkle within them had dimmed.

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