17BLACK

Chapter 53

Louis' POV:

Throwing tiny firecrackers off of your roof is a very, very good way to relieve steam. I don't know why I haven't tried it before.

The poppers fly in the air for a bit, their strips of thin paper flailing hopelessly in the wind, then exploding on the concrete walkway below me. It's soothing, really, how they scream when hitting the ground and creating a small spark in their wake. I almost forget about my mother's third child-to-be.

Almost.

I'm afraid that tossing the fireworks doesn't distract my mind entirely, and I find myself lingering over the thought of another child being brought up like I was. The box of juice I've been sipping hasn't done much to subdue my thoughts either.

Will they wait until it's older before she lets him hit the child? Maybe wait for it to speak its first word and then slap it across the face. Or hold back the punches and belts until the infant can walk, because who hits babies right? It's way more humane if you hit a child that's a bit older, just so they can remember the pain, the fresh sting of the leather belt, the dark blue kiss daddy leaves on your belly with his fist.

I hold back the bile in my throat as I dump the rest of the bag down the brick wall of my apartment. Some of them pop before hitting the ground, scrapping against the wall as they plummet until it's too much and they explode. The air is filled with little pops and crackles.

It only lasts a moment, though, before everything is silent. Except for my mind, of course. It's never quiet. I'm afraid of the paths my mind takes sometimes, but I'll choose it any day over the other option, which is my mind not responding. The cold sickness will seep through my veins until it reaches my brain, numbing it until I feel nothing. Yes, I'm afraid of feeling nothing. The day that my mind is silent will be the day I don't have a will to live anymore, the day that everything has gone too far and I'm done.

I've felt that feeling before, when I had a session with death. Me and him were pretty close, so close that I dared to try and touch him. When your life is empty and cold, death welcomes you with an open embrace. It's warm and inviting, but somehow I got away from it.

Maybe it was Will, or Aaron, I don't really know, but I had found a reason to not die and I had held onto it tightly.

I can feel death leaning over me now, pressing a kiss to my forehead and the feeling is all too familiar.

Death is not your friend. Death is nothing but a bag of coal with a pretty bow on it. You will not fall in love with death. Death does not love you.

I tug at my hair and close my eyes. I'm aware of my feet hanging over the edge of the building and I pull them into safety. I don't trust myself enough for nighttime encounters with the edge of my roof.

Snap out of it.

Why is a damn baby making me feel so much? It's a baby. It should be a beautiful thing. It's not its fault I'm a pussy for feeling this way.

It is too easy for me to slip back into that routine. Too easy to give in and close my eyes and fall. And I'm not going to do it this time.

The emotions from what seems like forever ago are just waiting above the surface, waiting for me to bite the bait and let them drag me up and away.

I'm weak. So, so weak for falling this easily.

I'm opening the next bag of baby fireworks when I hear a knock coming from below. I don't bother going to open the door, I left it unlocked for this exact reason.

Harry didn't ask many questions when I told him that Will was going to take me home, though I could see that he wanted to. He could probably see the distress in my face and wanted to immediately help, but I want to be alone. Need to be alone.