Page 44 of Devious Delusions

Fuck.

“No, sorry, I didn’t think. You can just remove my details.”

I step back, ready to leave and crawl under a rock because it’s embarrassing as fuck, but Kara shakes her head and a small crease forms between her brows.

“That’s fine, you can drive with me. The bus is for the kids, and I didn’t want you to end up getting lost on the way.” She looks down at the clipboard again and her brows go up. “You can play the piano?”

I nod and weakly offer, “I began training when I was four and I had composition lessons up until I was thirteen.”

Her brows get further up her forehead, and she blows out a breath before doing a head count and sending the bus ahead. Once it’s driven away, she points to her car and makes polite, normal small talk. I can do this whole people-ing thing and Asher will see that I’m not totally crazy. He won’t have to worry as much and maybe I can find a different job, one with less responsibility.

Kara doesn’t take long to catch up to the bus and she gives me all the details about what I’ve volunteered for.

“We rotate through each plot of farmland because there’s one field out of use to give it time to recuperate from last year. The children can do whatever they want and there’s some musical equipment in the barn.” She looks over at me. “It might not be up to your standards, but they enjoy it.”

When we reach the farm, my nose is nearly pressed to the window. She made it sound like a boring activity day, but there are animals grazing on the property. Ruby had a horse when we were children, and I was never allowed to go near it after it had bucked and broke one of the trainer’s jaws. My mother couldn’t risk the same happening to me and giving me a “hideous” scar that she’d be unable to hide.

A group of adults stand beside the bus, they all have the same matching pale blue t-shirts as Kara and I get out of the car, following her like a lost sheep because I’m socially inept. I allow her to introduce me to everyone and as much as I feel like an idiot, I’m also strangely proud of myself for getting out of the house.

It’s a day where my mind doesn’t win, there are no shadows following me or incorrect images and I’m not totally reliant on Asher. He gets to have his life, and I get to do the same. We can do this and be in a healthy relationship. All I have to do is continue taking my pills and slowly introduce myself to society. So I remind myself that these people don’t know my parents and there are no monsters lurking in the background.

I get distracted by a horse with a shiny silver coat like a magpie. It’s majestic. There are stalls set up with feed. Taking an apple, I hold it flat in my hand and bring it to its mouth. It dips its head, sniffing the fruit, before eating directly from my hand which is freaky as fuck, but it’s cool that it’s not afraid of me. I always thought animals would have the ability to sniff out all my insecurities, but this one is calm and allows me to stroke the top of its head while it eats. Until it’s finished the apple, and a laugh escapes me when it nudges my chin with its muzzle.

“Okay, you want more?”

I pick up a carrot next and jump as a deep voice behind me says, “Careful with him, he can get attached.”

A man stands far too close and I slowly step to the side as I politely smile and feed the horse.

“Well, he’s a pretty boy so I wouldn’t mind taking him home with me.”

The man smiles and brushes his hair out of his amber eyes. He’s tall and his t-shirt clings to his muscles as he rests his forearms on the wooden fence keeping the horse enclosed.

“Don’t let people hear that,” he whispers and smirks. “You’ll have a house full, Delilah.”

The horse snorts as my hand falls, taking its food away.

Because he knows my name.

How does he know my name?

I’ve never seen him before, and I study him for any sign of familiarity. Is the ghost real? His voice isn’t the same as the masked freak in my mind, and he isn’t sinister or leering. And he isn’t chasing me. But I still ask, “Do I know you?”

Are you the person haunting me?

A crease forms between his brows and he slowly backs away. “You were introduced to the group and walked away before I could do the same.”

Fucking fuck. I’m letting my crazy show.

I bring the half-eaten stick of carrot back to the horse’s mouth and try to make an excuse. “Oh, I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

Also known as my hallucinations.

He nods, unconvincingly, and makes some mumbled excuse to leave. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal and it’s a stupid concept anyway. No one is normal because no one lives a life exactly the same as someone else. Everyone has issues. So what if mine are managed by pills and doctor’s visits? Just because they exist in my head doesn’t make them any less real than if I had a physical illness. Stupid dictionaries and doctors with their need to find a meaning in everything, only to end up isolating the entire population because there are all these words for things that end up making people feel more alone. There’s no comradery in being crazy when everything that makesmeis at war, from my mind to my body, so what hope do I have of being able to be understood by anyone else when I’m constantly fighting to do the same? There isn’t any and I’m always going to be exhausted, unfulfilled with this need to be understood and hope that ifsomeone, anyone, can do that then maybe I’ll be a step closer to knowing who the fuck I am.

I continue feeding the horse because it doesn’t bring any attention to my crumbling mind and it’s calming. No one is within earshot as the man returns to the group, probably to tell them there’s a nutcase on the property and Kara hasn’t done her due diligence, so I bring a carrot to the horse’s mouth and stroke the side of its face as I whisper, “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

It snorts, which is just rude. I pull the carrot out of reach.

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