Page 14 of Collateral Damage

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“Why didn’t you tell me?”Tell her?Why would I tell her? So she could stop me?

“Because I'd rather die than spend the next three years and last waking moment of my life with my kidnapper…” I was not expecting my last moments to be with a maniac but I guess life is full of surprises…

“Ouch…harsh, you will be.” Fabulous. Can't she just walk out and leave me to it.

“Luckyyy me…” My body rolls, facing the wall, squinting in pain with every muscle I move.

“Have you gone through this before?” Her words are quiet but bitter. If she means, starving myself of life until I'm a mummified corpse?

“Nopeee…”

“Is there a way to fix it?” Why does she ask so many questions now?

“It’s called a Hypopen… and it's back home. You’re out of luck if you’re looking for redemption…” Part of me can hold onto that sliver of hope, that instinct at the back of my head telling me to keep going, to fight but it’s pointless now.

“There is no redemption for me.” Her voice is filled with demise but her actions scream repentance.

“Why didn’t you kill me?...” I've been playing that night over and over again in my head. She was ready to take my life. Burn my house to the ground but she didn't. I know I'm not stable enough to think rationally right now, but there must be more to it. A killer doesn't hesitate, right? She had me in the palm of her hands. All of this could have been avoided so why am I still here?

“I’m a criminal. Not a monster…” I want to laugh in pure disagreement but I don't have the strength to let it out.

“Criminals are monsters.” I spit gently. There is no difference between the two. Both are evil. She can try to cover it up but murder is murder. Nothing will ever change what she is to me.

…

“You got me there, Love...”

C H A P T E R 9

FUCKING SEE ME!

Puppeteer

“Have you ever thought about dying?...” She's asking me so I can comfort her in her decisions, and I don't care what happens to her. Like she said, she is doing the job for me. This way I don't have to dispose of her myself. Maybe just dump her in the sea, or burn her body so it leaves no trace, but a selfish part of me is hating the idea.

“No.” I lie. She doesn’t need to know she is the reason I am still breathing right now, and for that I want the satisfaction of taking her life myself.

“Why do you do it?...” Because it’s all I've ever known. Pain, death, grief, hurt. It’s what makes me the monster that I am. Happiness? Happy ever afters? It’s all one big joke. We all fucking die, and you can only delay the process. No amount ofLovecan keep you breathing forever. And some people don’t even deserve that. I don’t deserve that. Death is my gift. I know that, and I have accepted that, just as she has. It’s a ticket to freedom. It’s a sedative to the suffering.

“Because it calms me.” Death keeps my monsters at bay. and it’s something I don’t expect her to understand, and hopefully she won’t have to try much longer. She doesn’t even have the energy to react to my words, only stare into the void, a vacant expression paints her gaunt face.

I really don’t have time to sit around and watch this. I have shit to do. I stand to my feet, gazing down at her lifeless body, merely conscious. She will hopefully be out by the time I'm back and this shit will all be over. I can go back to my original plan and take myself out once I've finished some business, living a life amongst the dead only makes you want it more. Maybe this resentment I'm feeling is jealousy.

I go to exit the bedroom when weak hands take a gentle hold on my open pockets, tugging with little strength against the mesh fabric.

“Thank you…”My chest constricts. She doesn’t know what she just did, but I do, and this changes everything but I can't admit that to myself yet.Thank you?Thank you for what? She is dying because of me? And I wish she’d hurry up and get it over with so my mind can fucking relax. Her eyes are closed, her hold on my pockets seemed to be the last strain of strength she had as her arm falls limp to the bed. She said six hours minimum? Maybe she calculated wrong.Stupid girl.

I close the bedroom door behind me and gather my things from the garage.

“I’ll be back in a bit boy.” Shep tilts his head at me, seating himself in his bed. He knows the drill but he is also curious as to why there is someone else in the house right now. We don’t do company. He has been my company for the past four years and it’s nice to be seen without an insistent voice down my ear. Dogs don’t talk. They just whine and tear your shit up instead, but he's tolerable. He’s been the only thing keeping me remotely fucking sane.

I lock the front door behind me before making my way to my truck, perching myself in the driver's seat and all I can think about right now isherwhen I should be taking care of other shit. She has been nothing but a hassle. I drive myself down the uneven dirt track which is overgrown with grass up to the bonnetuntil I meet the main road. The road map in the passenger seat beside me circles my next target. It’s in the complete opposite direction from her house. Why am I even thinking about that right now?

I drive. And drive. My foot getting heavier on the gas.

It’s called a Hypopen… and it's back home. You’re out of luck if you’re looking for redemption...

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