Page 74 of Deviant

Anyone else’s, is fine. Not hers.

Her’s is sacred.

Once I’ve picked up the now-cracked bowl off the floor along with the spoon, I leave her bedroom and walk over to the kitchen to grab a mop and a bucket. I then return to her room, getting the silent treatment as she watches me soaking the mop with the green-toned broth. After finishing, I go back to the kitchen, grab a fresh bowl of soup, and return to her room, disappointed to see her no longer in the mood to be fed.

“You have to eat,” I demand, but she won’t have any of it. “So, is that your big plan now? If I don’t kill you, you’ll just starve to death? Is that it?” I ask, her attitude wearing my patience thin. When I see a crack of a smile start to play on her lips, I lose my shit completely. “Fine. You want to die so badly, then die already! What’s fucking taking you so long?! You’re so ready to be with Nora that you forget we need you here, too. I fucking need you, too! I need you, Mom! Me! So how about you reflect on that shit before you start fantasizing about all the ways you could die.”

Her hurt expression stabs me in the chest, forcing me to storm out of her room rather than having to look at it for another second.

In my agitated state, I end up in Nora’s room, kicking and punching everything in sight. With one fell swoop, I pull down all her anime books from the bookshelves, along with her precious knickknacks and photo frames. They all pile on the floor as I continue to expel all my rage in the only room of the house that should have remained untouched.

My anger blinds me to the point of not knowing what I’m doing any longer. It takes me a good half hour to get a hold of myself, but after my fury runs out of steam, I sit on the edge of my sister’s bed and hide my face in my palms.

Life has always been fucked.

It’s how things are in this town.

The minute you are born, death just hangs over your head like a fucked-up halo.

But this… I don’t think there’s another family in all of Blackwater Falls that has suffered as much as ours.

It’s as if we’re cursed to die before our time, even ifThe Scourgedoesn’t get us.

Mom from her ALS.

Aidan from some STD, most likely.

If I had to guess, then I’ll probably get killed after picking a fight with the wrong person.

And Nora… Yeah, well, her so-called best friend got her in the end.

Fucking-Rowen-Hawthorne.

If anyone deserves to die, it’s her.

Even she knows it but is too chicken shit to do the job.

As I survey the utter chaos I’ve created in my baby sister’s room, I get up from the bed and start putting everything backin its rightful place while envisioning how I could help Rowen finish the job.

I could push her off the bridge one night.

I could climb up her bedroom window and put a pillow over her head until she suffocates.

Or I could kidnap her one afternoon right after her shift and take her deep into the mountains. Then tie her naked to a tree, cut her up real nice and slow until the wolves catch her scent to finish her off.

So many options.

So much potential.

Just imagining all the ways that I could hurt her takes me into a Zen-like state, making me completely relaxed.

Feeling lighter than a few minutes ago, I continue to clean up my baby sister’s room, leaving it neatly organized without any signs of my short-lived destruction.

As I arrange the last set of books onto the shelves, a little black notebook catches my eye. A flood of memories comes back to me, one particularly more vivid than the others—Nora walking around with this notebook a month before her death.

“The fuck are you always scribbling in that notebook for?” I tease before lighting up a cigarette.

“Like I’d ever tell you?” Nora retorts teasingly, smirking as she continues to write down whatever little secret she’s hiding from me.

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