Page 21 of Scorned
Maybe I could say I’m furious.
Furious I let myself be fooled into thinking I was an impervious gladiator, when in reality I was more delicate than a candle flame fighting against the winds of a storm.
Or how about showing them I’m angry?
Angry I opened a sliver of my heart and allowed myself to care for someone, unknowingly setting myself up for failure.
I could simply express that I’m feeling sad.
Sad after realizing the hand dealt to me would never be higher than the one the house holds.
Perhaps I should tell them I’m broken.
Broken into a million sharp pieces when the one person who owned the glue was probably dead.
I shouldn’t say I’m jealous.
Jealous of the people who still felt peaceful during a gentle rain when it no longer soothed my weary soul.
What about saying I’m lonely?
Lonely because I refused to let anyone occupy my time while buried deep in the dark, depressing grave that was once my life.
But I can’t say those things, right?
Because that would not only make people empathetic but also uncomfortable; therefore, my emotions would stay hidden beneath the heavy barricades I’d created until the fragile glass of my soul shatters, sending shards in all directions, striking anyone in their path.
An icy breeze puckered my skin when it came through and changed the direction of the bonfire, the flames now swirled toward me. I took a step forward, moving in closer, and the fire licked at my pants, ready to engulf my entire existence.
“You can’t get that close.” Vivi tugged on my shirt, pulling me back a foot, leaving the fire without a victim. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Unable to look at anyone, afraid they would see the emotions my eyes held, I never turned around. “Like I said. I’m fine.”
My words were empty. Hollow. Meaningless.
I had lost my society, my family, and the person I loved the most.
I was not fine.
Far from it, actually.
I watched the flames flicker for a few minutes before someone tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned around, Randi handed me the whiskey without saying a word. I graciously took it with the plan to only have one or two more drinks . . . or until my emotions were numb.
Time was non-existent as we emptied the bottle of whiskey before Vivi grabbed another. I lost track of how much I’d drunk, but my worries felt insignificant now. I wouldn’t say it made me happy, but it did what Vivi said.
I was numb . . .
The alcohol had completely taken over my senses, leaving me with a fuzzy brain. I looked around and noticed Vivi was the only supernatural person in the vicinity.
“Where did Kimber go?”
“Winnie sent her and Erik to a cell phone place or some shit.”
“There’s usually more people out. Where’s everyone else?”
Vivi shrugged unconcerned. “Some went with Drag and Winnie on a supply run, the others went to see Drag’s new niece.”
No chaperones.
