Prologue
2008
Selene
I wanted to die.
On the outside, I seemed like your normal angst-ridden eighteen-year-old, but on the inside, my soul screamed to end everything.
Death called to me like a siren’s song. It rolled inside my veins, its very presence haunting my mind.
Although surrounded by many at the party, I felt so alone. People cared about me; people loved me. I hadn’t come from horrid upbringings or even had life-altering occurrences that drove me to desire suicide.
No, this need was deeper.
“Selene! There you are, baby.”
My boyfriend, Travis, came over to me with a beer in his hands. My body cringed at the scent. I hated alcohol and parties. But Travis thought it would be good for me to get out of my dark bedroom and be around people. He claimed I was gloomy all the time. I tried not to be, but gloom was inside my genetics.
“I wanna go home.” My voice could barely be heard over the music blaring in this house.
Travis’s pretty-boy face looked at me, and he shook his head, his blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead with the movement.
“Let’s just go somewhere quieter. Help clear your head.” He set the beer down on a random table and wrapped his hands around mine sweetly. His touch was soothing, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Even now the call to find death was growing stronger, a constant battle in my head.
Travis had been kind to me, always a bright light during my darkest days. I liked that about him the most. He believed he could fight back whatever cloud hovered over me with his bright smile and funny charm. He led us past couples taking exhibitionism to a new level. Thankfully Travis hadn’t pushed me to do anything like that in the three months we’d been dating.
“In here should be calmer. You can barely hear the music.” He opened a door to a bedroom. My hand squeezed his nervously, my head running wild with the thought of being in a room like this with him. My eyes closed with anxiety, tensing my muscles one by one.
“Easy, Selene, it’s OK, baby. I won’t hurt you.” His warm hands cupped my cheeks. I focused on my heartbeats, counting them, feeling my breath fill my chest, then contract.
“I’m OK.” My eyes opened to look into his pretty blues. I wasn’t OK, but I could fake it. When you hit your lowest, faking was all you could do to function. Pretend, pretend, pretend.
His hands dropped, believing my mask of contentment before walking over to the bed. I followed and sat gingerly on the quilted comforter. The room was lit by one single lamp on the nightstand and appeared bare, like an estranged spare bedroom.
“You’re really pretty tonight. Did I tell you that already?” He leaned in a little closer, his lips pressing a kiss to my pointed nose.
“You did. You look handsome, too.” He did. I tried to compliment him when I could. It helped show I cared to think about something other than the turmoil inside my head. His fingers inched up my sweater, feeling my arm beneath the soft material. A strange tingle shot up my arm, making my head quiet for a moment . . . no thoughts of death, no screaming inside me.
“Touch me,” I whispered. His touch made me feel quiet and normal for a few seconds. It hadn’t been like this before, but something was different now. Ever since I’d turned sixteen, everything had changed. Fighting it had been my only option. I tried to be the girl I was before—the sweet cheerleader with hopes of being a nurse, marrying well, and popping out kids to play behind the white picket fence. But challenging the darkness only made it worse.
“I’d love to.” Travis answered my whisper and began touching me more. At first it was up my arms, then his lips were at my jaw, then my neck. He was drunk, and his movements were sloppy. But the tingle ran wild throughout me. It wasn’t arousal. This was something different. I felt his hands. I felt the wetness and heat from his lips on my cool skin. Something about this was affecting my shade.
His hands moved up my shirt, gripping me harshly. I bit into my lip to stop from crying out. His other hand moved to my jeans, hastily trying to unclasp the button. I wanted the relief from the madness inside me, but I wasn’t ready for this.
“Not this, Travis.” I tried pushing him back.
“I won’t hurt you, Selene. I promise, baby.”
I believed him, but I still wasn’t ready. My hands pushed harder against his chest as he leaned back to focus more on my jeans. His eyes widened as he lost his balance on the edge of the bed. The force from my push and his own body weight propelled him against the nightstand with a crash.
“Oh God, Travis, are you OK?” Instantly, I was at his side. Death permeated the air. The feeling settled over me like a warm blanket. The thrashing in my head was gone, and the tingle in my blood ran rampant.
“No, no, no.”
My shaking hands touched his face, checking his features for signs of life. Blood soaked into the carpet beneath his head and coated the furniture. He’d hit the corner of the wood, proof of the injury he’d suffered.
“Selene?” His voice was clear, but his lips hadn’t moved. His eyes were still closed, and there was no movement from his contracting and expanding chest.
