I stare at him, every breath sharp as glass. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“It’s bigger than you.”
“No,” I say, voice shaking.
He doesn’t stop me when I walk away. Somehow, that’s worse than hate.
I don’t remember climbingto the roof, it’s where my feet took me. Even my subconscious is telling me this is where it ends.
The night air cuts clean through me.
The sea rages below, wild and familiar.
Each step toward the edge feels lighter, easier.
A voice inside me whispers,You’re not meant to survive this.
Maybe it’s right.
What’s the point? No one listens. No one cares. I’m a contract, not a person.
The wind roars. My toes find the stone’s edge. The sea claws at the rocks. Always angry. Always alive.
Maybe that’s why I love it. It never pretends to be calm.
The stars above are dull, too tired to shine for me.
I’m done pretending.
Done smiling through the pain.
Done being quiet.
The blade Matteo once steadied in my hand gleams faintly in the dark. The only thing that ever made me feel in control.
I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
My phone buzzes.
Unknown.
You on the roof tonight?
My chest tightens.Eyes blur the screen.
It would be easier if he hadn’t asked. If no one cared.
But he did.
I open my notes and copy the words I wrote for him.
Aoife
You said you’d send me to the slaughterhouse if you kissed me again.
But you didn’t.
I’ve been living in it this whole time.
