Page 17 of My Soul Is His

I jog out the front and through the beaten path where I’ve been finding Sebastian regularly.

The weight that’s been lifted has been a miracle. I could have survived life on Earth if it wasn’t for the one demon. Depression and Anxiety still watch me and play with my mind, but I can handle it.

Sebastian did the most selfless thing, and as much as I take care of him, I don’t think I can ever repay him.

Running through the forest, the branches cut through the heavy sweater. Side-stepping a hole in the ground, I catch my shoe on a buckle in the grass and fall in the undergrowth.

Raising my head, I see him thrashing about, his face contorting in soundless screams, a silent film of desperate struggle. He’s been fighting flashbacks, the horrors of his past resurfacing, clawing their way to the top from the depths of his buried memories.

“Fuck you, you can’t hurt me anymore. I killed you! You aren’t real,” he shouts.

I crawl across the dirt to reach him. “Sebastian, come back to me.”

Dodging his wild fists, I launch myself onto his body, the impact jarring, and pin him to the ground. Darkness clouds his brown eyes and blood drips from his neck, staining his shirt red. Lowering my tongue to clean him, I taste the metallic crimson and the salty sting of sweat.

“Marla?”

Clenching my thighs around his torso, I stare into his eyes. “Sebastian, I’m here. It’s me,” I whisper.

We’ve been doing this dance for some time and I’d take back the demon if it meant he could be free again. Sebastian didn’t have the luxury of dealing with it through life, and now is tortured beyond what he could have ever imagined.

“He’s not real. I know I killed him. That motherfucker can’t hurt us anymore,” he spits.

“You did so well. I’m proud of you.” I stroke his hair and lay my head on his chest. His arms tighten around my back, and he shudders before swallowing a whimper. “Let’s go home. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Sebastian pulls away from me and scrambles to standing before gripping my hand as we walk towards the house.

As happy as I want to be about losing the demon, it’s overshadowed by whatever he’s going through. I’ve never felt this possessive over him, and all I crave is to keep him safe.

“I’m clueless about how you did this, my dove. It is the worst thing I’ve ever dealt with.”

With his hand in mine, I squeeze it, because words can’t heal the wounds this demon causes.

“Sebastian, what if we went to the Lords and tried to switch it back? You don’t deserve this, and I know how to handle it better.”

He stops walking and rips me backward towards him. “Never. I’ll endure this for the rest of eternity, because you sure as fuck didn’t deserve it. Trauma caused by others is a ruthless tragedy.They’re not even here anymore to blame or question why, and I can’t watch you suffer.”

It’s like he thinks I can witness the undoing of the person who has my heart outside my body.

Eight

Sebastian

Idon’t understand in the slightest how Marla could handle this demon.

Every single morning, I’m lured out to the forest and taken down. A wisp of a memory, the gentle sway of my mother’s voice, plays on the edges of my mind. A sound I shouldn’t remember, yet it lingers. Her words, like a relentless tide of scorn and hatred, wash over me, shattering my will to fight.

Daggers cut me with each thought, every word uttered by my fucking father who used to beat me senseless.

The ghosts of the people I killed lurk in the shadows, ready to tear me to shreds, and I fall for it each time.

With a sigh, I stand at the back door.

“Sebastian?”

Marla is the only thing that prevents me from completely falling apart. Without her, I’d crumble into a cracked statue of the man I once was, the sharp edges of my grief cutting into my soul like shards of stone.

“My dove, did you sleep well?”

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