Page 101 of Creatures Like Us
Today is my final day on this earth, and despite everything, I can still appreciate the stillness of the air, the chirping of birds, and the sound of sneakers hitting the gravel path.
I’m in the park—the very same I visited on New Year’s Eve for what I thought was the last time.
These people will live on, even when I perish. There is peace in that thought, and there’s peace in knowing my Asher will live on as well. Hopefully. Hopefully, he won’t go back to his old ways. Hopefully, our time together gave him something to withstand those cravings for self-destruction.
I just wish I’d been kinder to him—maybe then he would have stayed.
I just wish I could see him again—not to make him stay with me, but to apologize.
I shouldn’t have to make him stay. He should stay of his own accord, his own choice, and I should have trusted him to do so. But I couldn’t. And as a result, I’m alone, and rightly so.
Didn’t I always know he would leave in the end? Should I not have been prepared for this? My mind was, but my heart wasn’t. I just hate that the last thought he’ll have of me is one of fear and anger.
I sit down on one of the benches that overlook the park, feeling short of breath.
There it is. That ache. I thought I’d successfully made myself numb again, but Asher has made me feel things I thought were long buried. I don’t even know why I came here. I should justgo back home, fetch my hunting rifle, and do what I should have done months ago.
I prepare to stand, but at that moment, a woman and man approach from my side.
“Oh boy.” The woman lets out a loud sigh and sits down on the bench beside me, a hand on her protruding belly. “Just let me rest here for a while, honey.”
“I told you we shouldn’t have gone the long way around,” the man says. He looks to be in his midtwenties, with short brown hair and a bump on the prominent bridge of his nose.
With my elbows on my knees and my hair falling into my face, I know I look unapproachable. Scary. I should get up and let the man take my spot on the bench, but for some reason, I stay, awkwardly twiddling my thumbs.
“You okay there?” the woman asks.
I throw her a glance. Her long black hair and golden skin shine in the sunlight. She looks?…?gentle. Kind. Like a younger version of Auntie.
Her eyes widen when she sees the state of me. I know how I must look—deadly pale, with dark circles under my eyes, and a bruise by my temple where Asher struck me. I look how I feel: miserable and grieving.
One look at me is usually enough for most people to turn the other way, but not for this woman. Instead, she lifts her hand from her round belly and reaches out to my face, without touching me, as if I’m a cat she’s trying not to spook.
“What happened to you, honey?”
What happened to me? A lot of things. Good things, bad things. Things I didn’t deserve and things I did.
The man jerks his head sideways. “Come on, April, let’s go.”
“Just a second.” The woman—April—cups my cheek, and she holds my gaze. “Whatever happened, you’ll be okay. As long as you’re alive, there’s always time to make things right.”
“April.” The man scrapes an impatient foot into the gravel path. “Let’s go.”
“Will you give me a hand?” she asks.
It takes me a second to realize she’s not asking her partner; she’s askingme.
“Uh?…” I stand up, feeling like a scarecrow in her company, a creature she should stay away from. Not that I’d hurt her; I just?…?don’t belong in these kinds of situations. People never ask me for help.
April reaches for me, and I close my pale fingers around her delicate hand. She keeps one hand on her belly and huffs and puffs as I pull her up from the bench.
I clear my throat. “When are you due?”
“Any day now,” she says with a smile. “I’m ready. I’m just waiting for this little creature to be ready too.”
The wind drags the hair from my face, and she looks at me so intently. Feels like she’s looking right through me. My skin, my flesh, and what lies beyond.
“Good luck,” I say.
