Page 114 of Paper Thin Love

Morning light covers the ground now. Oh…the night has passed, but the sins are still covering the ground. I look at Jared again. He doesn’t look like himself. He’s bloated and devoid of color now.

Hands grab me back, jerking me a few feet away from the body and my sad excuse for a grave.“Fuck, Mila, stop. Please stop! Oh shit, your hands!”

I look at my bloody fingertips.“I don’t feel anything.”

“Mila,” The worried eyes of my friend hold mine.

“Dominic,” I mutter.

He forces me to his chest as he hugs me.“I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I only got the call an hour ago and came as fast as I could,” he tells me as his arms squeeze me tighter.“What were you thinking attending a Cleansing?” He pulls back to look me in the eye.“You promised me you would never go to one.” He angrily snaps.

I swallow, my eyes finding Jared again.“I have to bury him.

Dom follows my gaze and closes his eyes.“They told me it was your dance partner. I’m sorry.”

“Who told you?” A small seed of hope takes root in my chest. Was it Dash who called?

“Some girl called me; she said her name was Avery. She told me what happened.”

I close my eyes, some of my hope sealing shut with it.

Dash really left me.

“Come on.” Dom stands, lifting me with him.

“No!” I declare in a panic.“We have to bury him.”

Dom looks at me with pity.“I’ll make sure he is buried.”

A swell of tears floods my eyes again.“You promise.”Because a part of me died with Jared, and it needs to be buried too, Dominic.

“I promise. I’ll always take care of you.”

I know you will. The problem is you are just another monster, Dom. After all, we are what we are raised to be.

I understand now, Dash. Sometimes, it’s too painful to be saved. It’s easier to fall, to damn yourself. That kind of suffering is less painful than showing others you care.

The men in my world view love as an object, but it’s not something strong and fierce that can protect you. To them, love is as flimsy as a thin piece of paper.

Dom holds his love for me dear. He cradles it like a secret note hidden in his palm, wanting to tuck me away and keep me safe in his pocket.

But to Dash, our love is as insignificant as a sheet of plain paper—useful but easily discarded when necessary.

Dash folded our love, held onto it for a time in case he needed to use it. But as the paper became bent, wrinkled, and worn with too many of his secrets, he tore it in half and tossed it aside, ensuring no one else could use it again.

He reminded me that in his eyes, love is just paper thin.

Do you want to know how I view our paper thin love, Dash?

I still view it as a thin sheet of paper. But there was a difference.

Sure, it started as fragile paper—it was a deal of convenience and survival after all—but love stories can also be written on paper, no matter how thin or strong that thin sheet is.

That’s the difference.

We could have told a tale of undying love; we could have taken that delicate, precious, thin paper and bound it in a book, ensuring it remained safe and treasured.

We could have written about so many things…

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