Page 27 of Sweet SIN Slaughterhouse

Turns out my little heart is a lot of heart, internally, because I feel so fucking deeply, others’ energies can impact me dearly. Mom calls me an empath. Other people's energies tell me if they are good or bad, which is why doubt riddled my body after Abi, because my senses failed me with her, where it had never failed me before. And as confident as I am, self-doubt can try and overpower my positive thinking.

Lying in bed at night, sometimes my mind still beats me up for that one. I try to remember that it’s okay, but it’s not always that easy. Recharging and protecting my peace is also top priority, if negativity is around me for too long, it becomes too draining.

Which then leads me to killing them or burning the evil out of this fucking place, like tonight. That vile cheating cunt tainted my sanctuary.

My focus returns to the beautiful flames before me, enchanted by their meaning and significance, until my phone vibrates in my pocket.

Taking my headphones off, I snatch it and see it’s Uncle Thomas. This fucking guy is in so much trouble, I chuckle to myself as I answer, “I heard you kicked Dad in the balls and lived to tell the tale of it,” I joke, he laughs in response.

“I don’t know what came over me, but after I realized I had, I nearly shit my pants out of fear.”

I burst out in laughter and ask, “Are you still hiding from him?”

“Fuck yes, I am terrified.” His laughter is no more, instead it has quickly turned into worry, poor guy. Dad will absolutely seek revenge but he won’t kill the guy, I don’t think.

Changing the subject, I have to know, “Have you seen my brother? I’m worried.”

A soft sigh exhales on the other end. “I’m sorry, baby Sin, I haven’t. What happened? Your dad is really mad, it’s the first time I have been genuinely worried for Blaise.”

A tear pricks my eye. “He knew some terrible things and kept it from me… until dropping off a VHS exposing it all. I was so hurt, broken even…” I pause, gathering my thoughts before rambling on because my other thoughts about Blaise are no longer relevant since Rogers showed me the true evil among us. “You know how Dad gets if I cry.” It’s the only explanation I need to give.

Uncle Thomas immediately understands. “I think that teacher from your middle school can attest to that.”

Dad chopped off the hand of my seventh-grade teacher, Mr. Donald.

He knew kids were picking on me, I told him several times, and he did nothing. Secretly, I think he liked watching a young girl having her lunches stolen, or shoe laces cut off her sneakers and seeing nasty notes taped to her back.

Misogynist.

Eventually it got to me when Mom asked how my day was and a river poured out of my eyes.

That night, Mr. Donald’s hand was in a box gifted to me from Dad, his body fed to the pigs, and the kids got mail a few days after Mr. Donald’s disappearance. Individually bagged teeth with a note saying,You’re next. I never had an issue with bullying again after that and no one has made me cry since, until now.

It’s a combination of Abi and Blaise that made my heart shatter. I will always hate Abi. Blaise is temporary, but try telling that to Dad. Like I said, this is years of buildup coming to a blow.

“Anyways, that’s not why I’m calling. The favor, I got it. Are you ready?” Uncle Thomas asks, as a giant smile adorns my face, making it past my eyes and to my brows.

I squeal in excitement. “Uncle Thomas, you are thebest uncle ever!” My babies start snorting, my happiness is contagious.

Regaining composure, I think, fuck, I need to do this tonight. A fresh start under the full moon. “Can you give me an hour then come to the slaughterhouse with it?” Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to telepathically tell Papa not to call yet.Please, this needs to be done in order and properly.Fuck, I hope he hears my wishes and allows me this.

Uncle Thomas interrupts my telepathy mission. “You got it, baby Sin.”

I smile, excited. “Okay, I need to get ready. See you then,” is all I say before hanging up.

Be gone, all evil. You are not welcome here.

After quickly puttingout the fire, I grabbed all the extra supplies I had been dreaming of sinceeverythingcame to light and changed my clothes. Fuck rainbows and butterflies, I desire rib cutters and skull chisels. A manic laugh releases and fills my Bentley. Most of my equipment is at the slaughterhouse, but this is a special kill which deserves special items from my personal archives.

My babies stayed home, so I will message my mom to bring them to initiation once we get the notice. Looking in the rearview, I am so used to seeing their cute faces looking back at me. My lips, painted in dried blood-colored lipstick, pout, missing them.

The roads are quiet, it's well past midnight, and driving through the town is peaceful before the chaos. A part of me hopes to catch a glimpse of my brother, so I can pick him up and protect him. To return the gesture of the years of him protecting me. Now that I know the truth, I kick myself for ever thinking he was the bad guy in all of this. But my mind spiraled and nothing screamed out to not question his allegiance and loyalties.

My leg shakes with anxiety, it’s gone past the point of anything I ever expected and I fear I cannot save him. The sharp points of my black press-on nails dance along the steering wheel. “Please, Blaise, let me see you,” I softly speak to myself as my eyes look down each dark alleyway I pass. “Where are you, baby brother?”

This is all my fault, but there’s nothing I can do now other than try and fix it, try and help him.

Pleads ignored, I reach the edge of town and catch no glimpse of him. Bright lights of the town dim behind me and I am brought back into the darkness of the wild. It then occurs to me, he will likely miss my initiation. “Fuck.” We were supposed to do this together, and now I must go alone.

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