As if I’d know what that felt like.
It’s why I skipped school one day when I was twelve, and went to her trailer. The previous day she’d let slip that Bobby had told her he was going to drown her in a sack in the river because feeding her cost too much money.
Just like he’d done with the kittens Haven had rescued from the dumpster down the street.
I wasn’t sure what made her more miserable—being reminded of those now-dead kittens, or her dad threatening to kill her. But the sight of Haven’s blue eyes brimming with tears, and how bravely she blinked them back so I wouldn’t see her crying, made me march into that trailer and throw a punch at Bobby Lee that felt like it broke my fucking hand.
That pain was nothing in comparison with what followed.
I couldn’t see out of my right eye for a week.
That same feeling is inside me now. A desperate urge to stop the tears Haven only sheds when she’s alone.
It makes me want to break things.
Breakpeople.
And I’m not twelve anymore.
My shoulder hits a tree trunk. I stagger, nearly falling before I can grab hold of another tree for support. I keep my face pressed against the rough bark as I haul in searing breath after searing breath.
Jesus, my legs hurt almost as much as my lungs. Been skipping cardio way too often.
I don’t know how long it takes to get my breathing under control, but by the time I do, my whole body is numb with a cold I can’t feel anymore. Rolling against the trunk, I put my back against the tree and stare up into the boughs.
It’s too dark to spot them, but the leaves are changing color. Soon, they’ll all be orange or red, then brown, then gone.
Where the fuck am I?
I scan around, spotting the distant shape of Agony Hollow College between the tree trunks. I make a beeline for it, stepping onto a manicured lawn with a concrete bench visible nearby.
My raspy chuckle isn’t a pleasant sound.
This is where Haven bashed her tote bag against my head and called me a piece of shit.
My chuckle becomes a laugh.
Fuck, it might even be this exact fucking tree that I pinned her against as I tried to make her come before I choked her out. When I thought I’d killed her, and almost had a mental fucking break down because I thought I’d lost her again.
My laugh hitches, and then I’m sobbing.
It hits me too fast, and I’m too fucking drained.
No hope of pushing it back like I always do. Can’t keep it at bay, like the other bullshit I’ve put up with my entire motherfucking life.
It crashes into me like water through a busted dam wall.
I grab the tree behind me, my fingers digging into the rough, wet bark for support as I fold forward. The sounds I’m making belong to a wounded animal, not a man.
Deep, rough, primal.
What the fuck is happening to me?
I can’t keep losing my shit like this. It’s like my emotions have been on autopilot all these years, and now that I’ve taken over the controls, I don’t know how to steer this fucking thing.
I’m losing altitude, and fast.
Thank God that old faithful, Fury, comes to the rescue. And he gives me that oh-so familiar line that somehow always reins me in.
