Page 252 of As the Rain Falls
And yet, I keep going. The stress of the past several weeks starts to crash over me, every thought I’ve been avoidingstrangling me. I don’t think I was built to feel anger. Nathaniel beat the ability out of me.
“You don’t deserve him like I do,” Maria cries. “I actually love him.”
“Well, if he liked you so much, we wouldn’t be here to begin with.” I shrug. “Besides, I don’t really want him anymore, Maria. So, go ahead and take him. Try to fuck him right for once.”
I’m so tired.
I’m tired of coming home to a father who won’t look me in the eye. Tired of all the time spent wondering if I’m making Nathaniel upset over something stupid. Tired of walking on eggshells all night just to avoid a cup thrown at me. Tired of all the years watching my mom keep herself locked away or go to church just to act like everything is okay.
I’m tired of myself too.
I don’t know why I keep pretending like that night didn’t happen, and I’m so tired of pretending that I don’t know the truth about Lucia Evans being murdered.
I want it all to stop, but I know it’s not that simple. I’ll just feel tired forever, and there won’t be an end to it. Not untilIput an end to it.
“It’s what you want, right? I did it, so…” I continue, my voice growing weaker. Sheneedssomeone to blame, and ithasto be me. “Go ahead.”
“Cassandra.” Mateo gently pulls me back. “Let’s go.”
I nod weakly, swallowing to keep my throat from closing. Someone reaches out towards Maria, and when I look, I see it’s Caleb.
“Enough.”
He doesn’t even spare me a glance. Only cradles Maria in his arm, soothing her like she’s something delicate. Something that needs to be protected. Protected from girls like me. Even from afar, I can see him apologizing and her nodding along.
What a fucking joke.
As my friends drag me away, I watch them. I watch and memorize everything about this moment because I know I don’t want to be in this position ever again.
The whispers in my head grow louder as I walk away. I don’t even sound like myself anymore.
How many times did I fuck him?
Why did I do it?
I must have known they were perfect together.
Yes, he loves her, so I must have been the one to send the first pictures.
I’m vicious.
I’m a bitch.
No, I’m a slut.
Don’t they know that I’m a whore?
Maybe that’s why I did it.
PAINTED WITH WATERCOLOR
Cassandra
JANUARY, 2017
I ride for whatfeels like hours.
I ride until my thighs burn and my throat tightens around a lump I can’t swallow. There’s something about moving my body that makes me feel like I might be okay once it all comes down. If I stop, I’ll just freak out again. It’s better to keep going until I crash.
