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I wish I never met Cassian.
But I don’t mean it.
I don’t mean anything anymore.
I don’t want to feel anything anymore.
• • •
That’s the problem.
I wish I was stronger for my dad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
• • •
I don’t know how long I was out.
Could have been twenty minutes.
Could have been three years.
Honestly both feel accurate.
• • •
The pills have done their thing.
Everything is soft and slightly sideways.
Colors are a little too saturated.
My own hands look interesting.
• • •
My dad.
Right.
I need to get up.
I issue this instruction to my body.
My body considers it.
Takes its time.
Eventually agrees.
• • •
I drag myself upstairs.
One hand on the wall.
