Page 20 of My Soul Is His

Her words anger me, but as the tears drop, I can’t do anything to stop them. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me close. I sob into her shoulder.

Breaking the disguise of being dead inside might be the final straw. Growing up in a world where emotions were fuel for the fire is a scary thing now.

“You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you, Sebastian. Look at me, we can do this, okay?”

Our eyes lock, and we don’t break contact until the bedroom door, where I lie down and feel her warm body against mine.

The thought of returning it to her makes my stomach twist, a desperate plea for strength to return to my soul.

“I can’t watch you be tortured. I’ve just got to get used to this.”

With a slight shake of her head, her touch remains, fingers weaving through my hair, her strokes soft against my skin, a silent reassurance.

Marla’s acceptance of my emotions, a stark contrast to others, offered a glimmer of hope that we could overcome this. My past is not a reflection of our future. She differs from those people from years ago who caused me such deep emotional wounds, although the scars remain.

The ache inside threatens to split me in two. As much as I love her and want everything to work out, the walls of my mind are closing in on me.

Nine

Marla

Decades have drifted by, leaving their mark on everything. I do what I can to help him, even as he falls further into the past.

Sebastian never let me take the demon back. He forbade me from ever seeing the Lords.

In between the constant threat, there were moments of unexpected peace, brief respites where his spirit shone with a quiet joy, but these tranquil interludes were far too short-lived to offer lasting solace.

Whenever I find him, I clean him and return him to the present, but he’s becoming a shell of the man he was.

I’ve broken his rules, pounding on the Lords’ doors, but to no avail. The silence is deafening, and I’m at a loss.

After getting back from welcoming new souls, I have to rest, but I fear what will become of Sebastian when I wake. My love for him is boundless, but an overwhelming fatigue weighs me down like never before.

Lying beside him, his arm wraps around me, a familiar warmth, and I feel at home.

Even as his mind tears him to shreds and the demons lurk, he’ll always be my place, the one I need more than anything else in this realm or another.

I rest my head against the moss and am wrapped in his heat. My eyelids are heavy and as the chaos reigns around us, I fall into a deep sleep.

Each morning, for several years, we wake nestled together, a quiet defiance against his inner turmoil.

I wouldn’t wish the camouflaging blue demon, with its sinister, unseen presence, upon my worst enemy. Its chilling effect is an experience I’d only reserve for my abusers.

This morning, I feel cold after waking. He’s run off again, and tears well and sting my eyes. A heavy weight presses down on my stomach, screaming that something is terribly wrong.

Running out of the house, I trace the trail he always takes. Large, grey boulders, worn smooth by time and weather, mark the path, poking out from the brittle, brown grass.

I duck and weave, avoiding the thorny branches that scratch at my flesh. This pain—a searing, exquisite torment—beckons to me, but duty calls louder.

All my focus, all my energy, is directed towards Sebastian. I need only think of him. He needs me to rescue him, just as he’s pulled me from the depths so many times before. A cold sweat clings to my skin, and I don’t know how I’ll keep bringing him back to the present.

Trampled brush in front of me is where I should find him, but Sebastian is nowhere to be seen. I continue trekking through the forest as I search for signs he went this way, but come up empty. Fear chills me. I’ve always found him before.

Panic seizes me, my heart races, and I am rooted to the spot, my gaze frantically searching the dense, ominous woods.

My instincts are stupid. Fighting or fleeing might help, but the sickening feeling of helplessness when you fawn or freeze makes any battle feel pointless.

Climbing over the fallen logs and twigs, heavy black vines snake around my ankles, pulling me down to the cold, hard ground with a thud. With a quick twist away from the barrier, I risk a look behind me.

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