Let You Down – NF.
Walk on Water – Eminem ft Beyonce.
Until I Bleed – The Weeknd.
"I lay my head on a thousand beds, it's been a test to see how far a man can go without himself. I think I lost the only piece that held it all in place; now my madness is the only love I let myself embrace. I could've stayed, but I chose the life; I chose the life. Then I realized, she might have been the one, I let it go, for a little fun. I made a trade, gave away our days, for a little fame. Now I'll never see your face, but it's okay I adapted anyway" – "Adaptation" The Weeknd.
****
🥀Carson🥀
"Charles take this boy out of my house!" my mother screams walking behind my father.
"Michelle will you just shut up, what if someone outside hears all this ruckus, what do you think they will think?" my father shouts at her equally as angry.
"You care about what people will think Charles? That's what you're thinking about? What people will think?" she shouts throwing her hands up in exasperation.
"He almost killed himself and Maddison, Charles! Because of alcohol and you're worried about what people will think? That boy needs to go to rehab!" she storms behind him as he walks into the living room.
"Michelle, if we send the boy to rehab what do you think people will say about him? They are already calling him a murderer the poor boy can't even go to school" he hisses sitting in the chaise lounge.
"Stop talking about people Charles, he is our son and he needs help!" she screams standing right before him.
"You're speaking as if he's an alcoholic" he hisses looking up at her.
"He is!" she shouts rolling her eyes.
"I'm not" I try to defend myself but they both ignore me.
"He just had a little too much to drink," he says picking up his glasses from the side table.
"He just had a little too much to drink? A little?" she exclaims looking at him as if he has two heads.
"Yes, that's what I said" he nods at her.
"There were two empty bottles of Absolut Vodka in his car, he had a half bottle in his hand, and did you see the bottles in his room?" she asks fuming.
"Ever heard of recreational drinking Michelle?" he turns his head to the side looking up at her.
"Charles that's not recreational drinking and you know it. The boy needs help" she says putting her hands on her hips.
"No son of mine is going to rehab Michelle and that's final," he says picking up the newspaper off the side table.
"What is wrong with rehab Charles? Rehab has helped so many people through their struggles. What is so wrong with sending the boy to rehab?" she asks him, clearly irritated.
"Did I say there's something wrong with rehab Michelle? I don't think I did. I said, no son of mine is going to rehab" he crosses his right leg over the left.
"If not rehab then send him to prison, he needs to learn Charles and he needs help" she sighs, frustration clear on her face.
"I would rather sell my soul than send my only son to prison for a mistake that can be corrected at home" he hisses loosening the tie around his neck.
"Now leave the damn boy alone and go find something productive to do," he says opening the paper; finality clear in his voice.
"I don't want this boy in my house not while he's like this, so you have to do something about it. Send him away, buy him a house I don't know, I don't care; just get him out of my house. I cannot stand to look at this boy, not after all that he has done" she shakes her head pacing before my dad.
"What has the boy done Michelle?" he looks up at her.
"What has he done? You're really asking me that?" she stops pacing to look him in his eyes.
"Your daughter is sitting upstairs in a wheelchair because of him. Your daughter whose world revolved around track or have you forgotten that?" she asks running her hand through her long black curly hair.
"Dammit Michelle! I know that she's up there, I know that she's in a wheelchair, I know that he put her in there but what do you want me to do? They're both our children and everybody makes mistakes that doesn't mean you need to love him less because of what he did. He's still your son Michelle and everything happens for a reason, the boy doesn't need rehab the boy just needs love!" he shouts standing up to face her.
"That boy is no son of mine. My son died the day the alcoholic was born and if he's not going to leave this house then Madison and I are leaving" she seethes walking away from him.
As I watch her walk away, I want to call out to her, I want to tell her that she's right, I want to tell her that I am an alcoholic and that I need help but I'm so drunk I'm afraid that if I speak my words will be incoherent. I want to explain to her how hard it is for me to live daily without being drunk or high, I want to tell her about all the things I want to do to myself when I'm sober but she wouldn't believe me, no one ever does; she'll say that I'm only saying this because I want to run away from the isolation waiting for me in rehab.
She wouldn't be entirely wrong; solitude has always done me wrong; it gets loud in my head when I am alone and I can never escape from myself because there is nowhere to go. It brings me peace to draw my own blood because when the blood flows the voices in my head are so fascinated, they calm down.
I probably hate myself more than she does but if I told her that now she'd think that I was saying all this for attention. She wouldn't understand how hard it is for me to fall asleep, she wouldn't understand how loud it gets in my head when I try to fall asleep. She wouldn't understand the constant war going on in my head, she wouldn't understand my dilemma between life and death. She wouldn't get how in the silence the only thing I can hear are the screams of Maddison over and over in my head. She wouldn't even begin to understand the constant fear that runs through my veins whenever I am alone.
Fear for myself and fear of myself.
She wouldn't understand how much it hurts when she voices her dislike for me. She doesn't know me, she doesn't understand me, she knows that I am flawed but how flawed she will never understand.
She will never understand how much I hate being alive.
She will never understand how afraid I am to die.
She will understand how much I want to leave this place.
So, I let her leave and I don't say anything to her; my dad trails after her though probably trying to calm her down. I stagger into my room pull the bottle of Hennessy from off my dresser and put it to my mouth. Nothing feels better than the liquid burning its way through my throat to my organs, the more I drink the more her voice drowns out.
She wants me to leave then I will, I will leave so that peace may reign in this house; she may hate me but I still love her and I would do anything for her. My sister loves me so much that it breaks my heart, I robbed her of her future, I robbed her of the thing she loves the most yet she loves me anyway. And my father, this is tearing him apart he should be shouting at me, he should hate me but the love that he has in his heart for me is preventing him from treating me the way I deserve to be treated.
I have to leave here; I'm a thorn and I am ripping my family apart. I don't know how I will survive, I don't have a job, I have nowhere to go but I know I have to leave here for the sake of the happiness of my family.
A knock sounds through the room, it's loud, louder than it should be but I guess that's what alcohol does to me.
"Come in" I slur out, I don't even know if the person heard me.
"Carson, my boy" my father walks in; why are there two of him in here?
"Hey dad" I smile lazily leaning back against the headboard, my eyes heavy as I fight to keep them open.
"Do you remember that house we have over in White Ridge?" he asks sitting at the edge of my bed.
I nod at him, or at least I think I do.
"Your mom and I agreed to give that to you, call it an 'I'm proud of all the work you've been doing in school so far and I can't wait to see the man you will be when you graduate' gift" his lips turn up into a sad smile.
"I've been on the phone with your school for hours organizing a transfer for you; you start at the campus in White Ridge at the end of summer," he says putting an envelope in the middle of the bed.
"We're also getting you a car; you know that Jeep you've been wanting? We can go pick it next week. And we're funding all your expenses for the duration of your remaining school years and one year after that. Your trust fund is still intact you'll have access to that when the time is right" he says patting the bed; the sad smile still on his face.
"You'll still have a home here and when you leave don't be a stranger. Get some help and take care of yourself my son" he says pulling me towards him.
"Remember, perfection is never questioned; exhibit perfection, keep up appearances, and that way you'll have peace outside of yourself. And you'll never be questioned unless you want to be" he says hugging me tightly to his chest.
***
"Mr. Dean?" an unsure quivering voice asks bringing me from my thoughts.
"Yes?" I answer looking to my left to find the owner of the voice; I've never seen her around here before.
Maybe you haven't seen her around before because you and your good-for-nothing lawyer friends rape and harass every female receptionist brave enough to walk through those two glass doors; I'm not sure though, that's just a thought.
We're not rapists.
No?
No, we just like to have fun.
And is consensual fun not good enough for you?
Who said the fun we have isn't consensual?
Oh of course, how rude of me to assume otherwise; I mean it's not like you didn't rape your girlfriend just the other day.
Silence.
"Mr. Williams is ready for you" her plump pink lips spread out into a smile.
"Lead the way" I smile at her standing up.
Her long legs move elegantly as she walks before me, her hips sway strongly as she moves and the tight black and white uniform, she has on hugs her curves perfectly. Her long red hair compliments her pale white skin and it is taking everything in me to not reach out and force her down on her knees.
"Right through here Mr. Dean" she smiles, her voice seductively low.
Her voice isn't seductively low, it is just low.
What do you know about seduction?
More than you apparently.
"Thank you" I smile at her twisting the door handle.
"I didn't get your name" I turn to her, my eyes roaming over her full-figured body.
"Apryl" she smiles, her emerald green eyes sparkling.
"Nice to meet you Apryl" I nod at her, with a slight smirk as I walk inside the office.
"That redhead is hot," I say to Jabari as I walk into his office.
"Isn't she?" he grins getting up from his chair.
"She could get it any day" I nod at him in agreement.
"I didn't know you liked white girls," he says walking to me.
"Diversity is the spice of life" I wink at him.
"Indeed, indeed" he laughs.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asks pulling me into a hug, eying my face quizzically.
"I got jumped" I shrug pulling away from him.
Sure.
"They got you good" he laughs as I sit in the leather chair before his oak desk.
"Yeah, they did" I nod laughing lightly.
They really did.
I have a broken nose, two fractured ribs, a disgusting purple bruise under my left eye, and blinding pains running all over my body. I can barely breathe without feeling pain; all because of three whining females that don't know how to appreciate the finer things in life.
When you say finer things in life, you mean stillbirth and rape, am I right?
Just shut up.
"What can I do for you today?" he asks pulling a drawer open.
"Remember that box I asked you to get for me?" I ask and he nods.
"Put these in there," I say handing him four white envelopes.
"What are these?" he asks looking at the letters quizzically.
"Letters Jabari. Am I paying you to be in my business?" I ask turning my head to the side as I look at him.
"You actually are" he smiles with a nod.
"You're worrying me you know," he says waving the letters up in the air, no evidence of the previous smile on his face.
"What do you mean?" I ask him, my face contorting in confusion.
"Last week you came in to draft up a will, now you're dropping off sealed letters to go with said will. Are you dying?" he asks and I laugh lighting.
"I'm not dying, but preparation never hurt anybody right?" I ask rolling my head back.
"I guess whoever robbed you beat some sense into your head" he nods putting the letter away.
You have no idea.
Can you just go away? Like for a day? Just one.
I leave when you die. Or I don't know, do you think dead people have a conscience?
"I'm not staying with you today" I stand up, refusing the urge to roll my eyes at myself.
"Where are you going?" he asks standing up as well,
"I'm a grown and busy man you know" I smile at him buttoning my black blazer over my black dress shirt.
"Do you want the redhead's number?" he asks walking around the desk.
"Nah, I'm a married man" I shake my head at him.
"Says the man with two girlfriends," he says in amusement.
"Exactly two girlfriends and women are nagging. I don't have space in my life for another one" I shake my head picking up my black slim briefcase off the leather chair.
"Alright then sir, suit yourself," he says outstretching his hand.
"Take care of yourself" I accept his hand, shaking it firmly; trying my best to convey finality through the handshake
Do you think this will be an ample goodbye?
It has to be; because like it or not that was goodbye.
"And you, my friend" he nods at me as I pull my hand from his.
"Have a good day Apryl" I nod at her as I walk through the reception area.
"You too sir" she smiles at me politely.
***
It's taking everything in me not to talk to the women I see around the building, they're all so beautiful and seem like they would make for good fun but I am practicing restraint.
Tócalos de nuevo y te mataré yo mismo.
The words run through my head as I walk to my Jeep; they left me all alone to fend for myself, to take care of myself after they beat the life out of me.
Is that how they feel when I have my way with them and leave them to deal with the consequences?
So alone, in so much pain, with no hope for tomorrow?
Do they feel worthless and tormented when I leave?
Does a turmoil grow inside of them after I have my way and leave?
Do voices spring to life, sputtering doubts inside their heads?
Do they fall into a state of despair?
Do they feel their will to live is slowly slipping away?
I felt lost as I laid on the floor of my living room, covered in my own blood with a broken nose, fractured ribs, fighting to breathe, consumed by pain, completely alone.
Yet while I laid there suffering the consequences of their rage, I did not feel an ounce of remorse for what I had done.
The pain I felt was like peace to my soul, I was filled with relief when their fists and feet connected with my body; the storm in my mind quietening down with every blow. The pain made me feel alive, the pain gave me so much freedom; for the first time in my life, my mind was still and quiet. There were no hateful words, no back-and-forth arguments between myself and I, there were no compulsive thoughts.
There was just silence and pain.
Even now as I drive to a part of town no sane person would want to visit; I still feel the throbbing pain in my head, though it's been three days the pain is still there, making its rounds, keeping the noise in my head at bay.
I don't like coming to this side of town but I don't like when this side of town shows up on my doorsteps. It reeks of death and poverty out here; this part of the city has long been forgotten by the politicians and the rich folks; nobody really comes around here unless they want to buy some drugs or something of the sort. There are no luxurious hotels, or ceiling to floor glass apartment complexes down here, just little concrete houses huddled together on the side of roads filled with potholes. Majority of the houses are unpainted and the good few that aren't, the paint is stained and/or stripping off the walls. Children and even some adults walk around in dirt-stained clothes, persons are always loitering around, begging the few persons that managed to secure jobs to help them get by 'anything you have, even it's just a dollar I'd appreciate it' they always say. There are drug addicts roaming around, mingling with rapists and thieves, there is no justice in these streets, no peace, barely any love; out here it's every man for himself and women and children are not given any special treatment. The streets are always gloomy, the only little light being the laughs of children occasionally drifting through the air as they play with each other ignorant of the problems in their society.
"My favorite rich snob!" Mr. Garcia smiles at me as I pull the jeep to a stop on the sidewalk before his house.
"You missed me, didn't you?" I grin hopping out, wincing as pain soars through my body.
"You bet I did" he pulls me into a hug.
"Now Peter let that boy go, let me look at him" I hear Mrs. Garcia say.
"I thought you forgot about us" she smiles pulling me into a gentle hug.
"Never" I shake my head smiling at her.
"I know this is an intrusion but what the hell happened to your face hijo?" she hisses taking my chin in her small callused hand.
"I got jumped, no big deal" I smile in her hand.
"You should be more careful hijo, I'm tired of telling you that" she hisses.
"Are you coming in for dinner?" she asks putting her hand on my bicep.
"Nah, I came to pick up something from someone," I tell her and her hazel eyes fall.
"Still on them drugs boy?" Mr. Garcia asks squinting his beady eyes at me.
"I'm cutting down, this will be my last time around here I promise" I smile shaking my head.
If only they knew the amount of truth that statement holds.
I swear I'm going to cut you out of my head.
Don't worry about me, I'll be gone really soon.
"I'll take your word for it" he nods at me.
"I have something for you," I say opening the door to the backseat of the jeep.
"I had some errands to run so I didn't buy any meat items because I didn't want them to spoil while I was driving around town," I tell them as I open the door revealing the back seat filled with grocery bags.
"Carson, I keep telling you that you don't have to do this," Mr. Garcia says his voice stern and strong, his eyes filled with gratitude.
"And I keep telling you that I want to; it's the least I can do" I smile at them.
As sweet as this is I hope you do know that this does not buy you redemption. You are still an awful person and you do not deserve to be around such wonderful people.
"Gracias mi amor. Dios te bendecirá" Mrs. Garcia grabs my face kissing my cheeks repeatedly.
"Gracias, gracias" she pulls away, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.
"It was no problem, honestly. Now let's get these bags inside before it gets too late" I smile at them picking up a bag and walking up to their door.
I remember when I met Mr. and Mrs. Garcia, I came down here with Jabari maybe two years ago to get some weed and ended up in a corner store; both of them were in there trying to get some ingredients for dinner but the total was more than the amount of money they had and the store owner was giving them a hard time about their tab. Mrs. Garcia was crying, maybe from embarrassment and Mr. Garcia was pleading with the man to let them keep the goods; telling him that he'd clear the tab by the end of the week. The man wasn't having it though and for some reason, it hurt me seeing how he was treating them so I intervened despite Jabari telling me not to, I paid for what they had and I cleared their tab; I didn't know them but there was something about the situation I couldn't help myself.
They tried to pay me back but I didn't allow it, I came to see them whenever I came down here and they easily became like family to me. It's funny how people that you don't know from anywhere can make you feel more at home than your own blood. I never had to explain my reasons for using drugs even when I would pass out in their house or when I would throw up all over their floors. They welcomed me and they treated me like a son and I will forever be grateful to them for that.
"This is for you," I say handing Peter an envelope containing a hefty amount of my trust fund.
"What's this?" he asks plucking it from my hand gently.
"Just a little something to keep you guys afloat, I'm not sure if I'll be able to come around here for a while so I want to ensure that you guys are okay," I tell him putting my hands in my pockets.
"Carson! This is too much; I can't accept this" he shakes his head pushing the envelope back into my hand.
"Take it Mr. Garcia, I promised I would help you get out of this place and back on your feet; this is me doing that" I put my hand over his, looking into his eyes.
"Take it, please"
"You're too good to us kid, I don't know how I'll ever repay you" he shakes his head putting the envelope into his pocket.
"The only way for you to repay me is for you to leave this place and make life better for your wife and daughters" I smile at him leaning against the jeep.
"Dios te bendiga chico, eres una gran bendición. No se que haríamos sin ti" he says pulling me into a hug, patting my back.
"Say goodbye to Helena and the girls for me," I tell him pulling away.
"Take care of yourself boy, don't get into any trouble," he says rocking on the balls of his feet.
"I'll try my best" I smile at him driving off.
It doesn't take long for me to get to my destination, there is no need for me to get out of the vehicle I just hand over the small bag with the money and collect an even smaller safety box with the item I ordered two days ago.
As I drive out of the area my mind keeps straying to Madison and what happened that day.
"Carson where are you going?" Madison hops off the stairs walking towards me.
"On the road" I look over my shoulder at her.
"Where on the road?" she asks wrapping her arm around my elbow.
"Somewhere," I say looking down at her.
"Where is somewhere?" she asks skipping beside me as I walk to my car.
"None of your business" I roll my eyes.
"Can I come?" she asks smiling up at me.
"No" I hiss pealing her hands off me.
"Okay," she says opening the car door.
"No means no as in you can't come," I tell her as I climb into the car.
"Come on Carson just take me around the block I've been in here all week, I won't even tell mom I swear" she pleads her shiny black eyes staring up at me.
"You're injured you should be resting" I stretch over her opening the passenger door.
"I've been resting, now I just want some fresh air. A five minutes drive and you can take me back I swear" she says pulling the door shut again.
"And if we get in trouble, I'll take the blame I promise," she says buckling her seat belt.
"Five minutes?" I ask her annoyed.
"Five minutes" she nods smiling up at me.
"The things I do for you" I mutter under my breath as I start the car.
"You only do them because you love me" she sings happily, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her jeans shorts.
I know I shouldn't be taking her anywhere; I can already feel the alcohol running through my veins, I don't even know why I'm driving to begin with I just can't stay in that house with my mother anymore.
I don't think anything can go wrong in ten minutes.
Right?
"Madison hand me that bottle please" I point to the bottle of vodka lying by her feet.
"You're driving Carson, I'm not handing you anything" she hisses looking out the window.
"Give me the bottle or I'll take you back to the house"
"I'll give you the bottle if you let me take a sip"
"Maddy you're thirteen"
"But you love me"
"Just one sip and hand it over"
"Carson?" she asks as she hands me the bottle.
"Hmm?"
"Why are you and mom always arguing?" she asks, her curious black eyes boring into mine.
"I don't think she likes me much"
"But you're her son"
"I know but life is like that"
"But I don't understand"
"What don't you understand Maddison?"
"How can it be that you are her son and she doesn't like you?"
"I think I may have disappointed her, that's the only reason I can think of"
"But Carson, she teaches me that when a person does you wrong you must forgive them and learn to move on"
"And she's right Maddy you should, but you should always remember that everything in life is to be done in moderation" I look over at her.
"Even forgiving?"
"Yes, even forgiving"
"I don't understand"
"Let's say there's someone that you love like me for example or mom or dad and they do something to hurt you and you forgive them, and then they do it again to see if you'll forgive them another time and you do. Then they start doing it over and over again just because they know that you'll forgive them and the more you forgive them the more they hurt you but they don't care about that; in fact, they don't care about what they do to you at all because they know that no matter what they do you'll forgive them. That's not good for you, so you'll eventually have to stop forgiving said person to have some kind of peace in your life Do you understand?" I explain to her hoping that she does.
"I think so but what if... Carson! Look a truck!"
I heard her screams before I felt the impact.
***
A light smile pulls at the corner of my lips as I watch a family walk on the sidewalk outside; the father says something and the little girl laughs grabbing the little boy's hand. They stop at the hot dog stand on the corner of the street and the mother picks up the little boy and kisses him on his forehead, earning herself a beautiful smile; as the little girl hugs onto her father's leg my grip tightens on the whiskey glass in my hand.
My family used to look like this, happy and connected until I started drinking and my mom started hating the way the alcohol made me behave.
"Carson! What are you doing?" my mom yells as she opens the door.
"Are you drinking?" she says walking over to my spot on the floor.
"Again Carson? What is wrong with you?" she hisses pulling the bottle from my hand.
"I spoke to you about this yesterday and look at you doing it again!" she closes the bottle setting it down on the dresser.
"Get up Carson," she says trying to pull me up from the floor by my arm.
"I don't want to mom, just leave me alone please" I sigh looking down at my toes.
"What is wrong with you Carson?" she asks looking down at me, her hands at her side.
"You wouldn't understand mom" I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes.
"I wouldn't understand? Help me understand Carson because if you need help, I'll get you help, I can't have you getting drunk everywhere we go and embarrassing me and your father" she hisses and I hear her walking to my left.
"I'm sorry mom," I say and she pulls the curtains opening making me wince from the heat.
"You're sorry? Aren't you tired of saying that you're sorry Carson? You've been doing this for years when will it stop Carson? When will you stop doing this to yourself?" she asks looking at me with disgust in her eyes, her hands on her hips.
"It's not as easy as you think mom, you've never been this way so you'll never understand no matter what I say!" I shout at her.
"Carson whatever is wrong with you it has happened to others before you're not special, there's nothing special about you, you're just sick Carson and I'm tired of having to deal with you"
I put the glass to my head downing its contents as I walk to the kitchen to open another bottle.
Did she lie though, Carson? You are sick, one sick son of a bitch. How many times have you been called a sadist? How many times have you been called a rapist? More times than you can count I'm sure. I have a better question though, what have you done to all these women that you regret? Do you regret beating Valentina-Rosa all those times? How about Emily? Do you regret beating your unborn child out of her? Maybe you regret hitting her all those times she tried to talk to you about what you did or how she feels about losing her child. No? Then maybe you feel bad for raping Valentina-Rosa or Emily or even Aurora or maybe all those random women at the clubs or Jabari's office.
Can't answer that? I have another question for you, do you feel bad about abusing women verbally? Putting them down, manipulating them, embarrassing them, gaslighting them, making them doubt themselves, making them doubt their existence, harassing them? Do you regret anything that you've done?
I'll answer that for you,
No, you don't and you never will.
You're embarrassing just like your mother said, you're disgusting, you don't deserve to live, you don't deserve to be here Carson.
They say God doesn't make mistakes but I think He slipped up when He made you.
I put the blunt to my lips but it doesn't do shit, my mind is a mess and I can't take it anymore, I'm agitated, everything that I've done is swimming around in my head I can't be here, living like this, I can't keep hurting people over and over again.
I can't sleep without seeing Maddison, Valentina-Rosa, Emily, or Aurora in my head, I can't close my eyes without hearing the screams of women; I can't go a second without thinking about all the terrible things that I've done.
"Carson look! A truck"
"You're a sadistic bastard"
"You're a rapist"
"You're a murder"
"You killed your unborn child, how could you? You took her away from us, you took her away from me"
"I hate you"
"I hate you"
"I hate you"
"I hate you"
"I hope you rot in hell"
"Please stop, I don't want this"
"Carson please, I don't consent"
"Carson stop this is rape, this is wrong"
"Carson stop, I swear if you let me leave, I won't tell anyone"
"Please Carson, let me go"
I can't go on knowing that I've hurt so many persons.
I can't go on knowing that I killed my own child; I think that is the thing I want to regret the most but something inside me is fighting all those feelings down. Something is convincing me that if I was presented with the opportunity to relive that day, I would not even think about not making the same mistakes.
I killed my daughter and I can't feel an ounce of remorse. I know that she would have been the one, I felt it when Emily first told me she was pregnant. She would've been the one to save me from this mental hell and the thing that I have become. That's why she's dead because everything in me despised that change was to come.
I don't know who I am, this is not me and it is driving me utterly insane.
I want to change but I can't; something deep inside me is preventing me from feeling remorse, I can't free myself, I can't forgive myself.
The more I think about what I've done the more I want to do it again.
I can't look at a woman without thinking about what is going under her clothes.
I can't live like this.
I can't forgive myself.
But I hope they can forgive me for doing everything I did to them.
I hope they can see that I was struggling to be free.
I hope they can see that I was fighting a fight that under no circumstance, I could have won.
I hope they can see that I lost myself.
I just hope that it's not too late for them to move on from what I did to them.
And I hope they too have not lost themselves.
**************************************************
a/n: Definitely the longest chapter in the whole book but it is my favourite.
Nothing will ever excuse Carson's behaviour but I think we often forget that villains have stories as well. I still don't like him but seeing that he's struggling this much and nobody is ever there for him just makes me sad in a sense. I still think he deserves to rot in hell but at least give him a comfortable cell when his time comes.
Glossary:
Gracias mi amor. Dios te bendecirá – Thank you, my love. God bless you.
Dios te bendiga chico, eres una gran bendición. No se que haríamos sin ti – God bless you boy, you're a great blessing. I don't know what we'd do without you.
Word Count: 5893.
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