Chapter 8
The Wildfire Thorn
I’m gripping my phone so hard that I know if I don’t let up, I’ll break it.
I also know if I let it go, I’ll break everything else in the room.
So in a way, this phone is my lifeline, my grounding object.
There have been many occasions in my life when I could’ve lost all control and given in to my fiery urges. A lot of times where I could’ve broken my promise and succumbed to my genes. But I’ve held fast.
So I’m not going to lose it now.
Not over some slip of a girl I couldn’t get out of my head for the past year.
A girl who’s been lying for the past year.
That’s what she’s been doing, isn’t it?
She’s been lying.
She’s been fucking torturing me for the past year. She’s been playing with me, with my control. With my fucking emotions that I chose to bury and bury deep so I could keep it together.
Except when it comes to her.
When it comes to her, I can’t keep it together.
I can’t. Fucking. Keep it together.
One year.
One whole year of seeing them together, of her walking around on his arm, of her laughing with him, dancing with him, fucking looking at him like he’s the only thing she sees.
One whole goddamn year of this jealousy.
This burning in my gut, this restlessness.
I don’t know what’s worse. That a teenage girl, a girl younger than my sister, my boss’s daughter, a girl my twin brother is in love with, can make me feel things. Or she could do it to this extent that I couldn’t tell what was real or not.
I don’t know what’s worse: trying to hold on to my control or burning this whole world down like I want to.
Maybe if I give in to my urges, once, just once, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if I explode and break everything in this room, if I break my twin’s face, I could calm down.
But no.
I’m not hurting my brother. I’m not going to turn into my father.
But I will end this.
I will fucking end this.
I will forget about her. I will push her out of my head, out of my life. And I know how to do that. If I can’t give in to this fire within me, then I’ll give in to her.
I know she’s the love of my twin brother’s life, but she’ll be mine first before I’ll let her go to him. She’ll be mine first to play with, to toy with. Mine to torture and to twist in pretty little knots before I’ll let her be anyone else’s.
With that thought, my fingers slip from around my phone but instead of throwing it against the wall, I set it on the nightstand and pick up my book. I read the same line over and over until exhaustion claims me and I pass out.