Page 65 of Twisted Heathens
Laying on my back, I’m sprawled across the bed and staring up at the blank ceiling. Light from the rapidly fading sunset paints the concrete, but I don’t turn to watch. Despite my mother’s words nudging me at the back of my mind. If she wasn’t dead and gone, she could watch the fucking sunset herself. I wouldn’t have to watch it for her, enacting the ritual like some kind of twisted dedication to her memory.
Everyone dies eventually. One disappointment after another.
I roll onto my stomach and wrap Phoenix’s blanket tighter around my body, half-heartedly picking up my copy of The Handmaid’s Tale. I’m supposed to be revising, but I only picked it up to tear pages out and see if I could cut myself with the edges. Didn’t fucking work, of course. But the words caught my eye and I fell into a deep rabbit hole.
My fingers trace over the sentence that I circled so heavily, my pen tore through the page. It’s those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge.
What I wouldn’t give to cut my way out of this life. To tear a hole big enough to squeeze through and disappear from reality. That’s the thing about dying. Those who battle hardest against it, they’re afraid of what they’ll leave behind. But when you have nothing, nobody to grieve you or notice the chasm you leave behind in the world, there’s nothing terrifying about death. In the end, it’s more appealing than living.
I hear Phoenix’s loud voice before the knock on my door comes.
“Brooklyn! You in?” he hollers.
Sighing, I open the door. “Yeah?”
Phoenix and Eli wait on the other side, both dressed in their weekend casuals. My mouth goes dry at the acid wash sweatpants and tight graphic shirt Phoenix wears, showcasing refined muscles and broad shoulders. His blue hair is starting to fade, but still garish under the bright lights of the corridor. Meanwhile Eli’s just as delicious in his tight ripped jeans and hoodie, the word Metallica emblazoned across the front. His chocolate curls are bouncy and freshly washed, sticking out from beneath the dark beanie he wears.
Fuck me, it should be illegal to look this good.
“We’re here to bust you out,” Phoenix declares proudly.
I stare, refusing them entry. “Bust me out?”
“It’s Saturday, weekly movie night in the block. C’mon, you can’t just sit in here alone. Besides, I bribed Kade to get something decent on. We normally get lumped with some vanilla PG shit, but I bargained for something better.” He quirks an eyebrow at me, leaning against the doorframe to close the distance between us. “You know you want to.”
Still I don’t budge, folding my arms and offering him a mean smile. “And what makes you think I actually want to go with the likes of you two?”
Phoenix dramatically lays a hand over his heart, letting out a sigh. “You wound me! Put it this way, come downstairs and we’ll make it worth your while. We can be very gentlemanly when the mood strikes, firecracker.” He winks at me, the sexual tension electric.
I bite my lip, heat rushing through my body.
Eli just stares, those green eyes layered with even darker intentions. He doesn’t have to say a damn word for me to feel the lightning between us, my hands itching to reach out and touch his body again. But with Phoenix in the mix too? These two will be the death of me. How convenient.
“Fine. I’m bored anyway.” I sigh dramatically. “But I expect to be thoroughly entertained.”
We head downstairs as a trio, with Phoenix keeping close by my side. His hand rests on my lower back and I don’t bother to move it. I made my feelings clear, so if he wants to play a dangerous game, that’s on him. I can’t be blamed for whatever comes next.
“Kade joining us?”
“Nope. He got leave for the day to see his folks. Some family birthday shit,” Phoenix replies with a shrug. “Being Blackwood’s bitch has its perks, I guess. You don’t see the rest of us making it home for birthdays.”
“Bitter much?” I laugh. But deep down, guilt settles in my gut. Is Hudson missing seeing his family because of me? No, don’t fucking go there. He chose to start that fight.
Phoenix clears his throat, apparently uncomfortable with my question. “Haven’t got any folks to miss, so no, not bitter. But my sister turns fourteen in a few weeks and I won’t be there.” He adds under his breath, “My record is fucking spotless too.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. My nan raised us both when Mum ran off with her latest exploit. Ain’t seen that bitch in nearly eight years. Charlie doesn’t even remember her.”
“That sucks. Good riddance to shitty parents,” I comment.
He immediately chuckles. “Agreed.”
We head down through the foyer and past the guard station, deliberately avoiding the meatheads sitting inside, studying everyone that passes. I don’t have anything else constructive to offer Phoenix. Shit happens and parents only disappoint. Us kids are just left to pick up the pieces.
We reach the movie room, where a bustle of patients slowly file in. Joining the back of the queue, we filter through into a large, relatively modern space. This end of the block seems to be an extension to the rest of the ancient institute. Big, comfy couches and bean bags are strewn about in the low-lit room, with blankets and cushions thrown in. A projector hangs from the ceiling, beaming directly onto the black wall at the front.
I take in the impressive arrangement. “This is fancy.”