Stall

Chapter 101.

I close my eyes and suck in slow breaths, flooding my mind with all of the things I try and keep locked away, letting them in so I can use them to do what I need to, to give me some kind of peace, to get this torture out of me for a moment.

The memories that made me who I am.

I feel it wash over me, the anger, the fear, the spite.

It leaves a calm ringing in my head, drowning out the sickness so I can get through this, the only comfort I have is knowing that when though I'm evil, at least I stick to my lists, I stick to my rules, and no one on there is innocent.

I walk to the bench, next to the old rusted bathtub against the wall and drag my fingers over the instruments on the table, deciding which one to play with today.

That same anticipation curls inside of me, tingling over my skin as my heart beat slows down, any emotions I had completely blacked out, the only thing I can feel is pain, and wrath.

One day maybe I won't need my medicine, but today isn't that day.

I pick up the pliers from the table, turning them around in my hand to inspect them and shrug my  shoulders.

These'll do.

I reach over, to turn on the tap to the bath, plugging it and letting it fill, the sound of the screeching from the pipes mixing in with the running water and the same music that stays on repeat.

I grip the pliers as I turn around, rolling my shoulders to crack my bones, knowing the demon in me is ready to play, enveloping over my senses until I don't even recognise myself any more.

I can hear the heaving breaths in the room, but they aren't mine.

It'll all be better soon, I'll be okay soon, I won't be that scared little boy any more.

All I'll be able to hear are the screams soon, and that's okay, because this time.

They won't be mine.

I walk over to the bench near the chair in the middle of the room, placing the pliers there next to the paper work and pick up the glass vial and syringe.

I stick inside the needle into the lid, turning it upside down and drawing out the exact measurement, thankfully Jimmy knows about this shit.

He's going to need to drop more off soon because I'm almost out.

...If I do this again after tonight.

Maybe I should stop?

Do I want to stop?

Abby would want me to stop.

Or would she? If she knew all of it would she really want me to stop?

I still think she would, she's not like me - like the rest of us. Her heart is too good. She wouldn't understand.

I saw the way she looked at me the day she found out about Andy, she was terrified of me and she didn't even know the details.

She'd never have anything to do with again if she knew about this - that's if she speaks to me again after the way I acted, she'd be even more terrified of me.

I don't blame her.

I'm scared of me too.

Maybe it's for the best, if she never saw me again. I'm a dead man walking anyway, I'm just waiting to die.

Sometimes she makes me wonder what it would be like to not want that though...

Fuck I can't stop thinking about how she'd look at me.