Page 67 of Petite Fleur

I cut until I hear "Leon!" Screamed at me from a distance, and everything went black.

I wake up in a cold sweat and shoot straight up in bed.

My stump throbs and pulses, this happens every time my mind is forced back to that day.

I hate this fucking leg.

I hate my mother for doing this to me.

She created a drug to make sleep obsolete and needed a test subject that she didn't care about. It's sad that her subject ended up being me; her own child was someone she viewed as disposable.

So, I became her lab rat to test out her drugs.

I became the one who had to learn the hard way that 16 days is how long you can go without sleep before your mind gives up on you and you cut your leg off with a bone saw.

It only takes 16 days to ruin a teenage boy’s life forever.

Fuck!

There’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep again after that, so I sit up on the edge of the bed and screw my prosthetic into the metal implant sticking out of my calf.

It hurts sometimes when it gets too hot or too cold, but it’s still more convenient than having to wear those sleeves to keep my leg on.

Once I hear the click and know my leg is secure, I stand up and head out of my bedroom.

The house is quiet for the middle of the afternoon; even the football player who tried to follow Maeve home is sound asleep in the basement.

I still don’t know what to do with him, and it’s giving me a headache.

I wonder if I should just let him go.

He didn’t technically do anything wrong; he just planned to.

Plus, he has rich parents, so I’m sure he’ll be reported missing soon, and that just creates a whole new headache for me.

I don’t know. I’m too tired to decide anything right now; I've been up all night already.

I hate that I slept my day away, but staying up to watch over Maeve was my top priority.

I sat at her desk and watched this beautiful creature sleep until the sun came up, and I heard her roommates stumble in the door, already complaining about throwing Maeve out.

The guy didn’t even want to throw her out; he said he liked Maeve and that she had never been a problem, but this girl wasn’t having it. She forced him to choose between herself and Maeve.

She claimed it was because of Maeve’s little fantasy, but the guy pressed her until she finally admitted that every guy she tried to take home last night only had eyes for my girl. Every time she approached a guy, all they cared about was learning Maeve’s name.

So, my girl’s kink was a pathetic and shallow excuse for her to exploit to throw out her much more attractive roommate.

Why that idiot picked her over Maeve, I’ll never know, but he did eventually agree to throw her out as soon as they could get a new roommate lined up.

I didn't need to hear anything else after that.

I know what I need to do; I just need to ensure that our house is ready for her.

I take a pain pill while I wait for my late breakfast to cook. I just need it to give me enough energy to deal with my guest and get my girl, so I add a double espresso for good measure.

Normally, I’d never drink caffeine after noon; it would keep me awake all night, and I know that sounds lame, it is.

I wasn’t like this when I was younger. I used to be able to stay up all night partying, studying, or killing and still function the next day, but that died when I turned 30.