This isnotthe brown package paper I ordered, it’s black with sparkles that remind me of stars. It’s gorgeous, but definitely not the style I wanted for Fae. I smile as it glitters in the light, because it feels like something I’d pick out if I had no constraints. Dark, a little edgy, but still festive as fuck. I haven’t been into that style of thing in years, not since my brief emo phase had myparents sending me to therapy in case I was depressed. I’d tried to explain to them that liking dark or goth or emo things didn’t mean I was depressed, it just meant that I liked that stuff. Since then, I’ve steered clear of anything too dark when it comes to decor or clothing.
This wrapping paper is cute enough that I might not even return it. I haven’t bought my own wrapping for the year, and I think I could still do something with it that won’t have my parents flying out to me in a panic. When I open the third box and find the missing second brown roll, I smirk. I guess I got a freebie, maybe they’re running a promotion.
Before long, I have all of Fae’s packaging arranged but one box. It’s possible the theme park popcorn bucket I’d ordered for Maria arrived, but if so, that would be super quick.
I crack it open and stare inside. Inside are ribbons, silver and gold, that match the black sparkle paper perfectly. There are little tie-on address tags, all black, shaped like moons and stars. At the bottom of the box there’s even some clear tape, scissors, and a shiny green paint marker, presumably to write on the tags.
DidI order myself a set? I don’t remember doing so, but I was really upset last night. I vaguely remember seeing some of this stuff… Either I actually put it in my cart, or I got someone else’s order who has great taste. There’s only one way to know, I suppose.
I open my email, and sure enough, there’s a confirmation—at like midnight—for an order I placed for these exact things. It’s a separate order, but it’s possible they processed it separately, or I woke up in the middle of the night to get it and I don’t remember…
Okay, I guess this is something that’s happening now.
My eyes sting as tears threaten. The back of my jaw aches, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself from crying. I know I have trouble sleeping, but otherwise… I sort of thought I was getting better.
It’s super rare that I can’t make it onto my porch to getpackages, and I’ve been getting the mail from my mailbox at least twice a week. I’m not ready for a trip into Boston, let alone home, but I’d hoped to be able to get my own groceries in the New Year.
So much for that New Year’s resolution.
Because ordering stuff in my sleep? Losing time? I’m pretty sure that’s bad.
Like, bad-bad.
CHAPTER
FOUR
The last rays of sunlight brush against the horizon, pink and gold fingers reaching across the sky as if seeking purchase on something that will let them stay. I want to reach up and twine my fingers with the fading light, feel the warmth of sunshine and happiness bathing my skin, keep it here with me and stave off the darkness a little longer.
But night always comes, and with it the cold certainty of what must be done.
It wasn’t always like this. I used to anticipate the setting sun, breathless and eager, because it meant I’d have a chance to be with her again.
Why does it have to be like this? Why can’t things go back to how they were before?
Asking these questions is pointless. The compulsion oozes from a pit in my chest, spreading with each beat of my heart like a slow-moving poison. Tainting me with its sticky, clinging,sickpurpose. Changing me more and more as time goes by, inside and out.
Soon, it will be all I am. Soon, I won’t remember what it was like before.
Any traces of the day are long gone when the tug in my sternum tells me it’s time to start again.
I release a shuddering sigh as I trace the bone-white mask that covers my face. Each night it gets easier to wear it. Less suffocating and more freeing.
Another shudder wracks my body at the realization that I actually like how the mask feels now. That the crimson markings dripping across it like blood evoke excitement instead of disgust.
There’s no time to examine that horrific new reality as the familiar, cozy cabin comes into view.
She’s at her own home tonight. Still snowed in, but no lights decorate the exterior of the cabin.
A frown curves across my lips. The holiday lights strung on her cabin were the one thing making these recent dreams bearable. I could look at them as I lurked in the darkness and remind myself that there was still some light and hope left.
An absurd spike of anger at the loss surges through me as I stomp toward the cabin, not bothering to keep my boots from crunching loudly in the packed snow. This isn’t how things are supposed to go, but I’m sick of everything good being stripped away.
She may be terrorized by me, but she’s supposed to at least be enjoying the holiday season, dammit!
Storming over to one of the glowing windows to look inside, it takes me a moment to realize that my indignant huffs of breath and heavy footfalls are being drowned out by another sound.
Music. Soft, twinkling melodies accompanied by singing. Not just the voices on the recording, buthervoice.
