He was twitching on the floor, barely alive as he flailed about without an arm or sight. Honestly, I'd been surprised he was still breathing. I had gouged both of his eyes from his skull, and then followed it up with the crushing of every one of his fingers, all one by one. It had been as though my conscious mind left me in place of the darker me, who always wanted this revenge. This side of me had always been creeping behind me, waiting for the moment it got it's turn.
"Well, isn't that a thing of beauty?" She gave a chuckle, torching a cigarette as she patted my shoulder. "How'd it feel getting revenge on the person who killed her?"
If I was being completely honest with myself, I felt fulfilled - that I actually accomplished something. Had it been normal to feel this way, to feel happy about killing the person who essentially murdered the woman I loved? Was it okay for me to feel satisfied, happy with the outcome? With everything I learned, had I finally found my place in this world? Had I found where I belonged?
As I peeled off the bloody black gloves I'd been wearing, she jumped onto the table and sat down, throwing one leg over the other. That was completely normal, what wasn't was the smile on her face. From ear to ear, her pink lips and white teeth had spread across her face. It was far from something human. That smile was something evil, something adorned by a seasoned demon.
"That smile gives me my answer." she tossed me a cigarette. "Try it. Shit tastes good. Anyway, who's the girl you brought? Someone serious?"
"Yeah." I answered, looking out of the corner of my eye. "...sure you already knew that, though."
As her bangs had fallen over her eyes, she spat out a heinous, obnoxious laugh. She jumped off of the table, grinning and taking overly wide steps as she waddled like a penguin. Had she just been having fun, or was she messed up in the head? She watched the whole thing without flinching or leaving once, like she'd seen it all before. Had she, perhaps, done it before?
She finally reached me, and stopped before reaching out to me and pulling me closer by my hair. With the faintest laugh, the tip of her tongue touched my neck and began to travel up, gliding up and through my jawline until she had met the lobe of my ear. Soft breaths hit my cheek as her mouth rested inches away from my ear, while her hand had it's own ideas.
"You're fun. I like you." she whispered as she pushed me away, grinning as she went back to her computer. "Let me know if you ever want to fuck. I'll be down if its with you."
I turned back to Kylie's killer, still seeing the light breathing from his extended stomach. Why had I been acting so normal while doing this? Had it been because of what he had done, or had I just separated myself from the situation and let my conscience disappear? In that same sense, I had long separated myself from the world, so how had this been any different? I had seen someone die before my eyes, so how had this been any different? Had it been different because I had been the one doing it? Not likely.
"You looking for a promotion or a raise?" I slammed my foot down into his throat, glancing at her. "Even if I get in your pants, that isn't happening."
"Honestly? Seeing people tortured gets me going." she bit her lip, still smiling. "I mean, I won't tell if you won't."
"The money comes through. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason she's still around."
"What are you talking about? Crest has had me keep an eye on you two for a while now. She hasn't done or said anything that would imply she cares about the money, at least in her texts and emails." She turned her computer around. "By the way, I'm not 'you'. My name is Chrissy."
Stepping up to the screen, I had skimmed most of what had been shown and she was right. Maggie hadn't even implied that she was around for the money, and then it had hit me. She had to have saved some from her family after so long - given how rich they had been, she had a good bit saved for herself. It was stupid of me to say that of her, when I'd known full well that it was never about the money.
Maggie never asked about the money I made, or rather, how much I had made. Not once did she even begin to bring it up. If anything she'd avoided it, knowing it hadn't been an issue. Why had I always questioned everything about myself and my actions when it came to Maggie? How had I really felt about her? I stuck my head out for her, and all she ever did was repay in kind.
Every time I had thoughts like this, I began to feel like a massive dick - like I somehow was betraying her open feelings by holding my own honesty back. I went so far for her, and I wanted to continue doing so. I wanted to be with her, and stay with her. I wanted consistency, and I wanted normalcy. Maggie was that in a lot of respects. Even after Kylie had died, she never changed all that much. Not from what I had seen.
"Fuckin' Christ." D-Bag came into the warehouse. "Smells like a bloodbath in here, punk."
"Yeah?" I pointed a gun at him. "Make yourself announced next time, would you?"
"Point a gun at me again, and you die. I don't care who you are." D-Bag thew down a clear plastic sheet on the ground and began to unravel it.
"Get your silver-spoon ass over here and help me out, punk."
**
Setting the beer down on the island, I let my head fall and point towards the black granite counter as the sound of sizzling began to take over the kitchen. Maggie, from what I was told, went shopping for food as that had been the one thing Crest had forgotten. Granted, it wasn't his responsibility, nor was I all that hungry to begin with. In fact, I was beginning to feel the effects of what I'd done hours earlier.
I had kept seeing the blood, feeling the pain, and hearing the screams inside of my head. Why was I going through this if I'd seen death before? Had seeing and causing really been that different? Had they been different enough to cause this weight on my shoulders? Taking another drink of the beer had turned from a swig into drink half of it in one gulp.
"You okay, babe?" Maggie set another beer down. "You look pretty pale."
"...What if I told you that I murdered the person who killed Kylie?" I looked up to see a pair of saucer-shaped eyes surrounded by pitch black hair - rounder than they usually were, that is.
She hadn't answered right away, and for obvious reason. She had just been hypothetically asked how she would feel if I murdered someone, and the person was the cause of her sister's death. It would've been a typical reaction for anyone, yet I remained numb. The only thing I felt was his pain, as though I could finally pretend I carried the slightest bit of empathy in me. Pretend. That's all I'd ever done since Kylie died. My life was only a perpetual game of pretending to be normal.
I was just a fucking monster pretending to be human. I was nothing, not human. I was a demon that loved to bury himself in drugs, women, and self-loathing - guilt, misery, and pain. Killing someone was just the breaking of that last straw, and I was slowly beginning to find myself fading from reality, from the things I had known. I was just going to fade away with the rest. I wouldn't be remembered, and I didn't deserve to be.
"I'm assuming that actually happened, then?" Maggie took my other beer and threw it into the garbage, seeming to have rolled with the punch. "How do you feel about it? Do you think you can move on from Kylie now?"
"Honestly, I didn't even think about her when I was doing it." I sighed. "It makes me feel like a fucking monster. How could I not think about her, when I was doing it for her? I feel like I was just killing to kill."
"Isn't that the normal thing to do? Well, as normal as it can get, I suppose." Maggie leaned over as her fingers lightly glided over my wrist. "If you were killed, and I had the chance to hurt the person who did it, I wouldn't want to think about you while I do it. I wouldn't want to stain my memories of you with bloodshed and the pain I'm inflicting on someone else."
Pushing myself away from the island of the kitchen, I fell into the sink and began to throw up water and beer. My empty stomach forced out all that it could, but that was all that was in my system, just liquids. I was able to feel her hand on my back and another on my shoulder, but what had been the point of it? Had I wanted Maggie there just to comfort me through all of my problems when I couldn't do the same myself?
Had I even wanted Maggie around all of this, the drugs and the danger? Assuming Crest told the truth, would the protection extend to her? What had Maggie wanted from me? I was only ever a stupid mess, unable of keeping even myself standing. All I had ever done was chase things I could never know or feel again, things that I couldn't or wouldn't ever see again. I wasn't just a stupid mess, I was a broken mess.
I was just another problem for someone. If it wasn't Maggie, it was going to be some other poor girl. If not that someone else, then it would be another someone else. I was the ruiner of everything, and I was the breaker of all that I loved. If I was the original cause of Kylie's death, then how long would it have been before I broke Maggie, before I drove her away like I did everyone and everything else?
"You're always the first to attack yourself over something." Maggie wiped my chin. "You put yourself through torture every time you do something. You overthink it all. You can't do anything without questioning it. It was never like that before...I've always kind of just wanted things to go back to how they used to be."
"Why do you stay around, then?" I pushed myself up. "You just said it yourself, I'm a constant failure of expectations. I'm still a fuck up, always have been."
"I stay around because I love more than just that about you, obviously. Even if things will never be the way they used to be, I still love what you are now - baggage or not, you're the person I want to be with. Why is that so hard to understand?"
If I had learned one thing since Kylie had died, it was that hope is a prison. I hoped and hoped for myself, for change in my own life. I put the hope in myself and others around me. The people around me had always fulfilled it, yet it had been me that always missed. I wasn't the hail mary that wasn't, I was the hail mary that would never be. I was the train that couldn't. I was the never-would. I was the failure Maggie hadn't needed in her life.
"I fucking love you." Maggie's voice had trembled ever so slightly. "I wish it had been me in her class. I wish I had been the one that was with you in the beginning. I've always been okay being second fiddle to her, but it's tougher with you. I just wanted you to think of me as more than her sister sometimes. I don't how else to say it. The time I've spent with you is as happy as I've ever been. Let me be selfish and have you completely to myself for once."
"I want to, Maggie. Of course, I want to. I want to escape this fucking nightmare and be happy, if only for your sake, but..." I could feel the tension begin to give out in my body. "Do you have any idea what if feels like to have people saying they love you and want to help you, but you still feel alone every single day?"
I spit into the sink.
"It just feels like anywhere I go, the world is caving in on me."
ns 15.158.61.8da2
