Page 239 of Jagged Souls
“Taking V is fine.”
“It is.”
I stare at him in shock. Then the words are blurting out. “So give me some. Write me a prescription or something so I can get Varius off my fucking back.”
“V is fine in regulation and when you’re not an addict.”
“I’m not addicted. I haven’t taken any in months.”
“So why do you want some now? If everything is fine?”
I clench my teeth, not liking his questions. I shrug one shoulder. “It’s just fun,” I lie.
“Is it fun to be beholden to a craving?”
“It’s not ‘holding’ me. I’m not a fucking victim to it.”
“But you want it without knowing why?”
“I know why.”
“So why then?”
My nostrils flare in frustration. I want it to stop the pain.
But if I tell him that, he’s going to think I know I’m not fine.
But I am.
I just wanted to have some fun.
“Because everyone’s so fucking uptight around me,” I snap. “I’m not broken.”
“I know.”
I’m brought up short again, surprised at his agreement. “Well,” I sputter. “Varius fucking doesn’t. He hasn’t once fucked me.”
“Do you want him to?”
I flounder.
I hate him for making me actually think about the words I’m saying. I just want to be angry. I want to feel something other than the crippling, fucking pain I felt on that boat. I want to know that I’m free, that I’m safe to be angry, and they’re not letting me.
They’re not letting me heal the way I need to.
Ignoring it isn’t healing.
Fuck you.
Attacking everyone who cares about you isn’t healing.
Fuck you!
My own damn voice should be on my side.
I hate this.
It’s this room.
