I am light-less.
And hope-less.
And beauty-less.
Fear embodied.
I am the moth the flame should burn.
Out of existence.
Because confident and catastrophic,
the living and the dead,
don’t,
shouldn’t,
coexist.
I taint.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I.
Am.
Nothing.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The final siege
Past,June 1985
Nina’s Protector
Nina is different.
Today is different.
She told Ken she would have a surprise waiting for him tonight when he left this morning. The way she said it, he thinks it will be something good.
I know it won’t.
Which is the reason my pleas have reached a fevered pitch and have been relentless all day. I’m used to living in stress management mode—I’m Nina’s subconscious, it’s what I do. But this is different. She isn’t listening, she’s tuning me out. I know she’s been planning this since long before Toby gave her the gun yesterday, but I thought I could talk her out of it.
It’s obvious now that I can’t.
Subconsciouses don’t like to be silenced.
We fight.
Until the end.
