NINE!
I was responsible for nine girls who would probably never grow into women. Who would never get married. Or God forbid, bear children.
I lured them to their demise.
I was the monster.
I sat on my bed, tears running down my face. In this moment, I missed my mother. If she’d lived, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be the evil I’d become. Sometimes, I imagined we’d gotten away that night and moved somewhere far, far away. We were happy. I was happy.
That wasn’t the path laid out before me, though. My mother used to tell me I was destined for greatness. But this? This wasn’t greatness. I’m the devil’s masterpiece, your greatest sin dressed in fine clothing. Somewhere deep inside, the evil was smiling. It had always been there, hiding, waiting for the one trigger that would set him free. Waiting behind all the hugs, laughs, and ‘I love you’s’ that surrounded me as a child.
I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know where those feelings came from. Why couldn’t I be normal?
Leaning forward, I grabbed the .45 that had been sitting there for hours, taunting me. I’d stolen it from John’s office. He’d always kept it in the bottom desk drawer and when he’d left for the day, I went in there and took it. My first thought was to use it on John. I’d wait until he came home then pull the trigger, but I couldn’t. A quick death was too easy for him.
Then I decided I’d use it on myself. My mind was spiraling out of control. I’d paced my room with the gun still in my hand, trying to figure out why I’d went in search for it in the first place.
I was losing my fucking mind.
I’d pounded myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand then set the gun down on my side table. I’d been staring at it ever since.
I wrapped my hand around the handle and checked to make sure the safety was on.
It wasn’t heavy to handle and easy to maneuver, but could I use it? I’d never shot a gun before. I could feel the perspiration on my forehead, and my hands were getting clammy.
There was no way I could do this.
Did I want to end my life? It would serve me right after everything I’d already done. If those girls were to come face to face with me after what I’d done to them, they wouldn’t hesitate. I was sure of it. They’d put a bullet right between my eyes.
But me?
No. I was too much of a pussy to take my own life.
What would my mother think? What would she say if she could see me now?
I placed the gun back down on the table and retreated until my back hit the wall. I slid down, wrapped my arms around my legs and rocked back and forth.
It wasn’t my time. I still had things to do. I didn’t understand why all of this was happening to me, but right then, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that I needed to get my head on straight.
I may not be able to do it now, but one day, John will get what’s coming to him. And Donicko? Him and his fucking Black Widow Empire will be burned to the ground.
Twenty-three
Mason
My night consisted of alcohol, alcohol, and more alcohol. I knew I was self-medicating, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I was numb, and that’s what I’d wanted.
I didn’t want to feel. I needed time to process all the things that had been going on in my life. I’d shut the world out completely, all except one person.
Luke.
After I’d cut my thigh open, I knew I’d need to call him. I had no other choice. The cut continued to bleed, and I couldn’t stop it. I sat there staring at it, the pain coursing through my body. It wasn’t bleeding enough to end my life, but it was a significant amount. I waited to call until I couldn’t take the pain any longer.
I wrapped my thigh with a towel, grinding my teeth together as I tied it into a knot. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I grabbed the scotch and headed into my bedroom.
I hobbled over and reached for the receiver on my side table before slowly lowering myself onto the bed.
I didn’t want to call Luke. The thought of him coming over and seeing me like this again made me feel more shame than I’d felt before. But I had no choice. I either called him or I went to the hospital.
I dialed his number and waited.
“Yo, man, what’s up? You coming out tonight or what?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m downtown. Where are you?”
I bowed my head and bit my lips together as pain shot down my leg. I looked at the cut and knew it was bad. I knew I should go to the hospital, but I didn’t want any of this to be on record. I didn’t want anyone else to see my scars.
“I need you to swing by. Soon.”
I heard him sigh, and shame and guilt washed over me. I was pathetic. How did I let my life get this way? I couldn’t keep involving him; he’d eventually pull away from me, realizing how much of a burden I truly was.
“Mason, you there?”
I zoned out and didn’t realize he’d asked me a question.
“Yeah, I’m here.”