Page 12 of Poison Aches

At first, she looked like she was in serious pain, or maybe it was constipation.

I really thought she wanted to go number one by the way she was running. Then she stopped, started panting and crying.

In her frantic craze, I watched as she made her decision.

When she looked out at sea, I could tell she had figured out how to execute her decision.

Then she looked up at the sky and a wave of intense guilt and something else that I couldn’t catch flashed across her face when she looked back at the dark sea.

But then, even after she climbed over the railing, I saw the one thing that made it clear what type of person this girl is.

She’s massively indecisive.

I almost roll my eyes, but I don’t.

I can’t adopt Noah’s unbecoming personality traits just from proximity.

Eastons have more self-control than that.

So why am I entertaining this girl instead of minding my business and watching her do what she came to do?

“W-what do you want?” The question rips from my tongue before I can stop it.

“Huh?”

“And why d-did you s-stop?” I ask but then quickly shut my mouth and frown when I hear the mess in my voice again.

Luckily the girl doesn’t notice.

It’s likely her state of mind is in shambles right now because she suddenly looks around, still in shock, then she looks at me.

“How long have you been standing there?” she pants.

I shrug, not wanting to talk again.

“What are you even doing there?” she presses, with a touch of desperation and shame in her shaky small voice, as if she’s ashamed that I discerned her thoughts.

This time I can’t help but answer. “I’m about to w-watch a good show, f-for f-free, even.”

“Excuse me?”

I look away, my fists clenching. I still can’t string a full sentence without my disease fucking things up for me.

Silence is golden, I know that, but this girl…

I can feel her gaze on me, but I don’t want to talk anymore.

I never talk this much.

This is the longest I’ve ever engaged anyone in mindless conversation. But that doesn’t matter.

If she grows a pair, she won’t exist soon so again, who cares?

“You c-can continue,” I say just loud enough for my voice to carry to her, but I sense her moving closer.

The distance between the sharp, uneven edge of the cliff and what she’s looking for is getting shorter. Good.

“Continue what?” she squeaks.

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