Page 11 of Eternal

Attached is a picture of the courtyard from last night. It’s dark, but I can make out the bench and the back of my head. What little light there is from the moon makes it clear it’s me because no one else at school has multicolored hair. Blonde with streaks of red, green, blue, pink, anything I can get my hands on.

From the angle of the photo, it’s clear what I’m doing. Across the courtyard is the couple fucking, and I’m watching them.

Declan.

My teeth grit, and I type back.

Teal: You wish.

I lock my phone and slam it down on my nightstand. Any guilt I had a moment ago disappears. Violet needs to know the truth about her brother, whether it hurts her or not.

Declan is evil.

The devil’s spawn.

Nothing good comes from trusting him.

4

Drown Him In Paint

Teal

My studio is mysanctuary. My happy place.

The one room where there’s no judgment or chains.

It’s just me and the paint spilling out.

I lock the door, put my earbuds in, and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I make an absolute mess of every surface until something makes sense.

The whole reason I wanted to go to Briar Academy instead of transferring out of state was the art program. It’s the small slice of serenity in a campus plagued by Sigma House influence. Some of the greatest artists of the past decade have walked these halls, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.

So long as I have my paintbrush and my canvas, the chaos quiets. Which is why I hate leaving the art building, especially after last night with Declan.

I roll my shoulders back as I walk through the gate that leads to the main courtyard, trying to keep my focus straight ahead, to the administrative building. From the corner of my eye, I see the bench I was sitting on last night, and I can almost feel Declan’s haunting presence behind me.

Watching me.

Lingering in the shadows where he must have last night as he took a photo of me watching the couple. I don’t know what this new game is that he’s playing, but it’s torture waiting for him to reveal his motives.

I know Declan well enough to be sure that what he did last night won’t be the worst of it. He hacked my therapy sessions and now has every dark secret I’ve ever confessed. All the blackmail he needs to prove I’m the crazy girl this town already thinks I am. He’s going to make my remaining years at Briar a living hell.

I’m not sure who I’m more upset with: my doctor for his lack of security or myself for believing I found a safe space to speak freely.

Dr. Parish isn’t my first therapist. But he is the first one I’ve trusted. He didn’t just take notes and watch the clock; he actually listened. He met with my father and worked with my entire family to better understand me.

He might still be calibrating my dose and figuring out the right medication, but at least he’s trying. And he’s getting closer to figuring me out than other doctors. The ones who threw random pills at me and told me to sleep it off when I was on edge, having hysterical fits inthe middle of class from the sound of someone’s pencil scratching the paper.

Dr. Parish showed me how to survive the day without being forced to live in a constant zombie-like state.

Things were looking up until Declan showed up last night and peppered me with taunts.

I was getting better.

Someone bumps into me, and my eyes fly open.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped walking, and luckily, at this time of day, it’s so busy that no one seems to notice.

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