2010-03-19
“I don’t understand, Gabe!” I hate this. She fucked him over, and he won’t let me kill her. “She cheated on you! That bitch broke your heart.” Broke mine too, ripped it out and left it steaming on my living room floor next to Trevor’s corpse. “We should hunt Elle down and kill her.”
“We can’t.” His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl that nearly matches the one I’m wearing. “I loved her.”
“Loved her. You don’t love her now. It’s been months. She’s screwed with us again, and you’re still forbidding me from killing that bitch.”
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“We can’t.” His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl that nearly matches the one I’m wearing. “I loved her.”
“Loved her. You don’t love her now. It’s been months. She’s screwed with us again, and you’re still forbidding me from killing that bitch.”
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There’s someone in the bed next to me. The sheets smell like sweat and something weird, like that witchcraft shop that went out of business near Gabriel’s shop. Incense, it’s called incense, or it could be perfume.
I need to pee, but I can’t move. She’s got her arm across my chest, and the bed is too small. She’s got tattoos all over her body, and I feel my face turn red. I drank so much wine.
“You need to go, don’t you?” Lydia’s husky voice breaks the silence.
“A lot.” My voice cracks as I scramble over her. “Sorry.”
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I need to pee, but I can’t move. She’s got her arm across my chest, and the bed is too small. She’s got tattoos all over her body, and I feel my face turn red. I drank so much wine.
“You need to go, don’t you?” Lydia’s husky voice breaks the silence.
“A lot.” My voice cracks as I scramble over her. “Sorry.”
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Wind blew another shower of dead leaves down on me as I walked between the graves. The rusty gate squeaked as the wind buffeted it behind me. It was a miserable day, and I didn’t want to be here. I prayed for a storm but that prayer hadn’t been answered. My prayers never are.
Mom looked up at me, squeezing my arm tight, leading me to the blackened angel statue that watched over the grave. “You’ve late, Gabe. Would you have let the rain keep you away?”
“No mom. It was time for me to come see you. I’m sorry.”
Mom looked up at me, squeezing my arm tight, leading me to the blackened angel statue that watched over the grave. “You’ve late, Gabe. Would you have let the rain keep you away?”
“No mom. It was time for me to come see you. I’m sorry.”
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Thanks for letting me stretch my muses' brains.
Thanks for letting me stretch my muses' brains.
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