Page 7 of Twisted Heathens
Normally I’d stay and piss her off for some entertainment, but the shake in my hands is worsening. I’m running out of time.
Click. Finally getting the door open, I slip inside without another word. My forehead falls to the wood, eyes sliding shut. Heartbeat hammering in my ears, I allow the sob to finally tear free from my mouth.
Red flashes behind my lids, pools of blood quickly gathering as the image forms. No matter how hard I shake my head, I can’t get rid of it — the nightmare that follows me around. I see the lampshade broken and upended on the floor. A smashed beer bottle in shards around us. Cool steel clenched in my hand as I slip and slide through rivulets of blood.
The shadows wrapped around me that day, steeling my spine and adding fuel to my rage. They whispered their deadly commands. Killing is easy, Brooklyn. You’ve just got to have the guts.
I open my bag, slumping against the door without even bothering to turn the light on. Moonlight illuminates enough of the room for me to see what I’m doing. My finger glides along the stitching until I find my secret stash, fingering the edge of a hidden blade.
Sucking off Paul had its perks, a girl has got to do what’s necessary to survive. He was good for some things at least. The pills he snuck in and this precious contraband were worth the degradation. That’s what I tell myself anyway.
Shucking my jacket and rolling the sleeve of my jumper, I stroke the pale skin of my arm. Pearlescent scars meeting my fingertips, the bumpy ridges immortalising my sins. It’s all about punishment. Nobody should get away with what I did.
Razor meets flesh, hot pain granting me instant satisfaction. I press down hard and bite my lip, savouring the resultant burn. Wetness spreads, running down to my elbow. I sneak a peek, the sight of dark trails making my heart thump harder as my mouth waters.
So fucking beautiful.
Three jagged cuts and I’m done. Only three. Control is necessary; if you do too many, the thrill is lessened. Pleasure comes with precision, not desperation.
I wasn’t always this way. Most blame others for their demons. We’re all victims one way or another, right? But not me. There’s no one else to blame. I got this way all on my own.
I’m the fucking monster in this story.
Two
Kade
Jaws by Sleep Token
I stand frozen, watching her dash up the stairs. My mouth slackens with shock and outrage. I should be used to the rudeness in this place, manners and mental health really don’t mix. It serves me right for being Mr Nice Guy. Not everyone wants to be helped.
Shaking my head, I make my own way up to the fourth floor. Chest burning with every step, the indignation makes my jaw clench. She’s a nobody. Just another lost cause for this hellhole to claim.
I’ve made it halfway through the program, only another eighteen months to go. I can’t wait to get out of here and never look back. Unlocking the door, I’m immediately greeted by my hollering roommate playing Xbox like a hooligan. I stroll in, setting my coat and keys down before frowning at him.
“Dude, it’s been seven hours. You’re still playing that stupid game?”
Phoenix jerks his chin, refusing to tear his eyes from the screen. “It’s Sunday. Get off my back, Kade.”
“Exactly. You’ve got a paper due tomorrow, right?” I sigh.
He shrugs nonchalantly, gesturing towards the other bed.
“Got it covered.”
I glance at my own bed. Eli is tucked away in the corner, oversized hoodie covering his wild brown curls and blocking out the world. I can see his hand working overtime from here, smashing out the essay, without stopping for air. The guy’s like a machine when it comes to academia. There’s an incredible mind buried in there somewhere.
“Eli can’t do all your homework for you, jackass,” I berate.
“Why not? He likes doing it.”
“Is that why you swapped to history? Just because he was doing it too?”
A confident smirk crosses Phoenix’s face. “You bet. My grades have never been higher.”
Gotcha. He’s only four years younger than me, but he behaves more than a twelve-year old than a grown man of nineteen. I slump onto my bed with a defeated sigh. Eli immediately shifts, pale hand reaching out to stroke my hair. It’s his way of welcoming me home without saying a word, and I savour the contact with my eyes shut. For better or for worse, these two are my family. Our bonds run deeper than blood ever could.
“You’re particularly grumpy today, what’s got you all in a twist?” Phoenix asks.