Page 48 of The Darkest Hour
The storm loomed around us, the waves growing more insistent as the darkness deepened.
Onyx's story lingered in the air, her voice still echoing in my mind as we clung to each other for warmth.
The rain started to pick up, light droplets that soon turned into a steady drizzle, mixing with the cold wind and soaking into our souls.
Yet, Onyx looked up at me, waiting for my response, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else—an emotion I couldn't quite place.
Trust, perhaps?
It had been so long since I'd felt the need to share my past with anyone, let alone someone I’d only recently met under such dire circumstances.
But something about this moment, this night, compelled me to open up.
A part of me resisted. In my line of work, confessions were a luxury, a weakness. Yet, here in the middle of the vast, indifferent ocean, with death a real possibility, the philosophical conflict of whether to confess or not tore at me.
Could I afford to trust her?
Did it even matter now, in the face of possible doom?
It doesn’t.
I took a deep breath, the rain chilling my skin but also providing a strange sense of clarity. “You really want to know about me?”
Onyx nodded, her dreadlocks brushing against my chin as she nestled closer, seeking both warmth and possibly. . .answers.
“Alright,” I began, my voice low and steady, “but you might regret asking.”
She chuckled softly, the sound almost lost in the patter of rain. “I doubt it.”
I sighed, the memories surfacing, each one more painful than the last. “I grew up in a rough neighborhood. Violence was the norm, and you either adapted or you didn’t survive. My parents were both addicts. I had to fend for myself from a young age.”
“No brothers or sisters?”
“None.”
My voice became rough with emotion, “Still. . .when I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut.”
She chuckled. “Really?”
“Yeah. I was obsessed with the stars, with space. Had wrinkled posters of the moon and planets all over my room. I used to dream about leaving Earth behind and discovering new worlds.”
“What happened?”
I took a deep breath, the old recollection grew vivid in my head as if it had happened yesterday. “When I was ten, my mom killed my dad. Right in front of me. She caught him cheating. . .brought it up at the table during Thanksgiving. . .all of my dysfunctional family had been there. . .even grandma was high.”
Onyx stiffened under me.
“He. . .uh. . .started gaslighting her. . .which is what he would do all the time, I just didn’t understand that until I got older, but. . .she just had enough. . .grabbed the butcher knife from the turkey and stabbed him. Everyone screamed, including her sister. . .my aunt. . .who was the woman he’d been cheating with.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah. . .I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. Never have. . .never will. . .”
“I can see why you wouldn’t.”
“It was brutal. . .” I did my best to push it out of my mind, but still the visions came.
The blood pooling on the floor.