That’s a good start. Speak nicely. No threatening of any sort.
You finally replied, you fucking asshole? When I catch you, I’ll fuck you up.
Block.
He’ll come around.
Hehasto.
18
PRESTON
For as long as I can remember, there’s been a buzz that lives in my mind.
A loud whine eternally buried in my brain, lurking behind every word, every action, and every waking moment.
My brain and I call it the static.
You know, that thing that happens when you hear your own thoughts. Like a stream of consciousness of sorts, like you’re having a conversation with your alter ego before talking in the real world.
Only, for me, it’s loud and won’t shut up, not even during sleep. That time is its playground.
Let’s make Preston’s nightmares as action-heavy as we can, says the static to the brain, flipping between the channels, pulling on the strings as if I’m a marionette.
Sometimes, I think the static and my brain are one and the same.
Because I certainly don’t want to be stuck with the constant annoying buzz that never lets up unless I’m heavily medicated.
And by heavily, I mean it has to be a dose large enough that I can barely move my sluggish body around.
To kill the static is to kill my brain or douse it so much, it won’t be able to make any noise.
Which is what I’ve done tonight, swallowing the strong medication reserved for my extra-severe episodes.
Jude would kill me.
Kane, too, probably.
They don’t like it when I take these special concoctions when I’m not in their presence.
Jude would actually rather take me on a ride or a killing spree than watch me be a zombie.
“You don’t like it either, do you?” he told me when I asked him why he’s so against my magic potion, made by his brother, no less. “You’re clearly uncomfortable with those meds because they practically erase your inhibitions and make you defenseless, which is bound to trigger your traumatic memories.”
“The whole point of Julian’s special meds is that I feel nothing, so, technically, no trauma shit happens.”
“Technically doesn’t mean fully.” He grabbed my shoulder. “I want to be here when you take them, Pres. That way, you know no one will fucking touch you under my watch.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Promise me.”
“Aw, you love me that much?”
“Promise, Preston.”
“Fine.”
