The air seems cooler here. Stiller. I lock the door and rest my back against it.
The quiet hits hard. For the first time all day, I can breathe in without pain. My heartbeat slows, and the pounding in my skull lessens.
They aren’t good for me. I’m better without them.
I need to go.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I rest my elbows on my knees and count to ten. Darkness hovers under my skin. I can feel it in my veins, devouring me. Eating at me like poison.
Nothing I do seems to help.
I can’t talk back. He just laughs.
I can’t push back. He just pulls harder.
I can’t go to Rowen; he doesn’t understand.
How can anyone really understand?
I’m alone in this.
Completely alone.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the bitterness drains away. The nausea, the anger—everything starts to settle, like dirt sinking to the bottom of still water. The sounds fade. The voices no longer reach me.
It’s just…silence.
Nothingness.
I focus on the rhythm of my chest rising and falling. The faint hum of the mark under my skin. It’s almost soothing now. Like it’s pulsing to the beat of my heart. I stare at it, focusing on the light. It’s predictable and steady.
Pretty.
No one comes for me. No one calls my name. It’s like they needed this space too. They’re relieved.
They’re better without me.
We aren’t meant for each other.
For the first time in days, my head doesn’t hurt.
For the first time in weeks, I can breathe.
I don’t question why.
I just accept it.
I need this to be over. For all of it to be over.
The darkness stretches… and stretches. I sink deeper into it, letting it flow through my chest, around the tether near my heart. The tether vibrates.
Tears slip down my cheeks. “Don’t fight it,” I murmur as it writhes. “It’ll be okay.”
It’ll. Be. Okay.
I exhale, long and slow.
Everything will be okay.
