I want to murder every single person who did this to me. Papa would do it for me, no questions asked, damn the fucking consequences because consequences are for people who don’t have vast riches and connections to every organized crime family up and down the east coast.
“Nah, there’s no need,” I say instead. “I’m already plotting my revenge, don’t worry.”
Papa shakes his head. “You called me up just to tell me not to do anything?”
“Yeah,” I close my eyes. “I just wanted to hear you tell me it’s okay for me to murder a few people myself.”
Papa bursts out laughing. “Why do you need my permission?”
“I don’t know. But there’s a stupid voice in my head that’s screaming at me that it’s my fault, and parts of me aren’t fitting right at all, and my heart hasn’t been inside my chest in years, but now I wonder if I was even born with one, because if I had one, I wouldn’t have…” My voice catches. “I mean, if I was normal, if I wasn’t me, I would have normal reactions to things and not immediately destroy everything I touch.”
Papa goes quiet, and I expect another promise of violence from him.
“Pandora…” Papa says. “That’s… I know how you feel. I do. Damien can tell you all about how I am. How I’ve always been. Mama isn’t a stranger to it either.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t care how you deal with it. If you want to murder, that’s fine. If… fuck, don’t tellanyoneI said this, okay? But if you go to a counselor, and they give you pills, and you want to take those? That’s okay too.”
I giggle, because it’s so in-character for him to be more embarrassed about encouraging therapy than about encouraging violence.
“You think it would make me feel… not like this?” I ask, and I don’t even know whatthisis.
“Or so I’m told. But I want you to be whoever you want to be.” Papa abruptly gets up, the camera tilting. He ends up walking to the large enclosure, where his largest snake—a boa constrictor—is lazing on a branch. “I’ll even promise to be understanding.”
“No you won’t,” I point out, grinning. “There is no way you could manage to be understanding.”
Papa laughs, too. “Fine, I would pretend very hard to be understanding, and then I’d grab Slayer and we’d have fun at the cabin. Oh, we got a new table saw, by the way. Super sharp, and it’s got these things to make cleanup easier.”
“You can show me next time I come home,” I say.
“We could meet halfway. It’s pretty much on the way to Dyschord.”
We keep chatting, my earlier outburst forgotten. Papa shows mehow the rest of the reptiles are doing, and I feel much more like myself by the end of the conversation.
I’m no longer precariously glued together. There is only a single me, one that doesn’t have a heart anywhere near her chest, but my parts all move in all the right ways and I even manage a smile that fools Papa.
Or, he pretends it fools him, in any case.
“Thanks for the talk,” I say. “Don’t tell anyone else about it. Well, tell Daddy not to worry if he hears about a fire or whatever. It wasn’t me, I swear.”
Papa laughs again. “Yeah, sure.” After a brief pause, he says, “I know you’re a fully grown destroyer of worlds, Frog, but I will drop everything to support your efforts to devour your enemies.”
“Papa! Cannibalism is frowned upon. And now I should get some sleep, because I have… classes.”
“On a Saturday?” Papa waves to me. “Okay. Call me again. Tomorrow.”
“Yep! Bye!” I end the call, then scoop up Echo and place her back into her enclosure. I change into my PJs, at which point I realize I’m starving.
I go back out to the kitchen, past the flowers, and check the freezer. The only thing in there is an instant meal Sam had bought.
“I’m eating your food!” I shout at Sam’s door. “I’ll pay you back later!”
There’s no response. I place the frozen meal into the microwave and sit down at the table while I wait.
Without my phone, I’m bored enough to look at the flowers. I think they actually are red and not some strange hallucination.
Actually, they look kind of familiar.
I pull out one of the flowers.
Isn’t this a dahlia?
