Page 20 of Twisted Heathens
“You’re goddamn right I do, sweetness.”
He tries to grab my hand but I dance back, putting distance between us again. Grabbing my sweater, cigarettes, and ID, I stride from the room with my head held high. Sometimes being alive is fun. Only occasionally, I can’t be making a habit of this playfulness.
The door clicks shut behind them, both guys hot on my heels. By the time we get outside, I’m sandwiched between them. Phoenix is sticking a little too close for my liking, with silent Eli trailing at a more reasonable distance.
Pulling a cigarette from my pack, I light up and breathe in deep. I can’t see any security nearby, so I savour each drag. Only a few left now, I need to investigate who is in charge of contraband here. There’s always someone, a resident pimp to supply us delinquents with the necessary substances.
Eli’s eyes fix on the glowing stub of my cigarette. The hunger is plain to see in his transfixed gaze. I shock myself by offering it to him. He looks equally uncertain, finally taking it with a grateful nod.
Phoenix spends the walk across the quad talking incessantly, skipping from one topic to another at random, borderline frenzied. By the time we reach the building, I’m close to backing out and spending the day alone. A headache is already threatening.
“Maybe you should take a leaf out of Eli’s book. It’s too fucking early to be this chatty,” I complain, causing him to rumble with laughter.
“No way. You’d miss my sparkling conversation.”
I stifle my own chuckle. “Not likely.”
After scanning our IDs, we head down more thickly carpeted corridors lined with fine landscape paintings. I’d love to meet whoever designed this place and call them a stuck-up dickhead to their face. That’d be a fun time.
We reach a busy classroom, with students taking their seats. I immediately freeze in place, venomous panic rushing in. There’s so many of them. What if someone recognises me? I imagine them whispering already, their hateful stares on me, heavy with disgust.
Maybe they’ll take pictures and sell them to the press, or they’ll campaign to get me kicked out, send me back to the Clearview hellhole. Worse still, I could get locked up in prison this time where my criminal ass really belongs.
A growing black presence billows in the corner of the room, conjured by my panic. My spiralling paranoia steals any remaining courage as I slowly back away, watching the shadows grow. It won’t be long before the voices begin to speak. My hallucinations are always the same.
“Brooklyn? You good?”
Phoenix stands in front of me. His fingers slide under my chin and raise my lowered head. He blocks out the nightmare behind him and I stare, desperately hoping that he does something. Anything. He nods and mutters to Eli, who heads in to save our desks.
Grabbing my hand, our fingers link together. “Come with me.”
Rather than flinching away from the contact, I allow him to drag me into a nearby empty classroom. There’s not a single shadow in sight as we sneak inside. Phoenix flicks the lights on and shuts the door, turning to me.
“What’s up?”
Wringing my hands together, I look away. This is so embarrassing. The voice of irrationality is too goddamn loud. That’s the thing about delusions, they’re so fucking believable that discerning reality from fiction is impossible.
“It’s just… there’s a lot of them.”
“What, students?”
I hum a response, gnawing on my abused lip.
“Well, I think you’ll find that in every class, to be fair.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks. That’s really helpful.”
Arms crossed and biceps bulging, Phoenix pins me with a serious look. “They are patients, just like me and you. You don’t need to be scared of them.”
Scared of them? Is he for real?
“I’m not scared of them,” I whisper.
His brows furrow. “You’re not?”
Shaking my head, I swallow the truth. He can never know what I did, or the demons that I carry with me to this day. It’s a secret that I’ll take to my unhallowed grave.
“Then what is it?”