He didn't come back to me.
Yet. He didn't come back to me, yet. Maybe he's just...
I pull all my belongings out of the tub, turning the water on in hopes to distract myself with a shower. I scour my body thoroughly, keeping my thoughts as quiet as possible, even when drying off and picking out clean clothes. I plug the new iPod into my speakers, and smile when the theme song from Sonic the Hedgehog comes on. Holding the device in my hand, I pace as much as the cord allows me, counting each twisted, flattened thread in the carpet as my feet pass over them.
He left you. He stopped wanting you, and was too cowardly to say so.
I shake my hands out of the fists they're clenched in. The tiny half moon wounds on my palms sting, but I ignore it. A small beetle skitters across the floor. The song changes. One of Journey's many power ballads. I sing along, my expression brittle.
He lied. He just wants to get even with you for being too weak to stand up to Tommy.
I don't realize how hard I'm clenching my jaw until I feel a sharp snap in my cheek. I hold my free hand to my face, keeping the mandible in place as I expend enough blood to mend the broken bone. The song changes again. The Imperial March. I squeeze the iPod gently, as if seeking comfort from an inanimate object.
The Anarchs sent him over there to do their dirty work. The sent the weak link. He's not back because he's dead. He's dead and the Anarchs and the Fae are going to hide it from you.
The song changes, and it's once more Alex's voice coming through the speakers. My pacing stops and the iPod falls from my hand, coming unplugged as it hits the ground. It's silent, save for my agonized cry. "No!" The fissure inside of me spreads, and I don't know how I'm still standing. Don't know how I'm still holding this facade of sanity and normalcy.
I can't. I have to do something.
No. It's only been two nights. Don't over react.
I want to go to the Barony and throttle Troy. Dig my hands into his guts until he tells me why they sent Alex. Why it had to be my Alex. Make him fix this. Make him bring Alex back. I want to burn the fair to the ground. The Cause. The fucking Cause. They're no better than the Camarilla, pushing their loyal followers face first into danger and destruction.
This is beyond my control. He made his decisions. He can handle himself.
I want to go to Tommy and have him beat this out of me. I want him to hurt me enough so that the wound from Alex's abandonment feels like a paper cut. A stubbed toe. I want to bleed out every ounce of terror. Terror that I'm alone again. Alone by my own hand. My own fault, because I'm insane and harmful and I ruin everything I touch. I want to bleed until these traitorous, hateful tears stop falling.
Distraction. I need a distraction. Something fresh and innocent and easy to slaughter.
I spare only a second to grab my K-bar before I'm out the door, through the woods and on the hunt. The air is thick and humid, burdened with an oncoming storm. My movements are sporadic, as I frantically try to keep my direction away from both Crownsville and Baltimore. It starts to drizzle. I run aimlessly until I catch the scent of something desirable. A boy and a girl. Just two, but enough. Enough for now. I follow the scent of youth and the tick ticking of bike wheels. Pushed, not rode. I hear the casual conversation. A wish to get home before the rain starts in earnest. In a moment of split second decision, I choose the girl first. The boy being less likely to scream and ruin my fun. His reaction time is stunted, he doesn't even notice when my knife draws across the girl's throat, deep enough to sever tendons and split vocal chords. His expression is one of disbelief as I drop her, bleeding and shuddering into the gutter next to her bike. Perhaps in some ill thought self defense, the boy pushes his own bicycle towards me. I dodge it easily, taking him down with a leap that crushes bone upon my landing. I widen my jaw, clamping it over his shoulder and throat, grinding gristle and meat as I drink from him. The boy's vitae is quickly depleting, so I rip the chunk of masticated flesh from his neck and spit it down at his dying body. Turning my attention back to the girl, I flip her over so she's on her back, squatting over her hips and I slice her open from gullet to gut. What meager hunger I had is already sated, so I stay bent over her, watching her die and licking handfuls of her blood from my palms like popcorn. The smell of my kill is heady and overpowering, and I don't even notice the steady rain that washes the gore off the pavement in mesmerizing patterns. I stand up, walking away from the bodies in a light daze. I'm not even halfway back through the woods surrounding my house when I realize,
It didn't work.
Every thought is still centered on Alex and the stupid choices I can make in his absence. I drop my bloody knife, and it sticks into the dirt. Lowering myself to the ground, I join it, shortly afterwards. The rain pounds down on me without mercy, and I'm grateful that it's loud enough to drown out my pathetic keening. Burying my face in my hands, even the sound of the rain can't muffle my silent plea.
"Please don't leave me. Please come back to me. Please come back for me. Please don't leave me.."
https://youtu.be/0NnJAGRAaYw
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