19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Matt
Mica is dead.
He’s dead.
Dead, dead, he’s dead.
I leave Ace’s office in a daze, the reality sinking in for the second time only moments after Ace leaves again.
It feels even heavier now. The relief of him being gone isn’t a weight lifting off, it’s a weight pressing down.
I don’t understand that. It’s probably not understandable. I’m just broken.
Nolan isn’t in the bedroom. I lie down on the bed and curl in on myself. Nolan or Bryce will bring me food soon enough. I just have to wait for them.
Every second of waiting is a new prickle along my skin, another ounce of weight on my chest. I don’t last long before I take my bunny and crawl under the bed instead. It’s safer there. Easier to breathe.
It’s not as nice as being in Ace’s office, but he probably needs a break from me. I still don’t know if I’m the reason he’s in there so often. Just in case, it’s probably good I give him some space.
Even if I’m not the reason, it’s still a good idea. He was so nice about me crying all over him last night, holding me for however long he did and then offering to let me sleep in there once he couldn’t anymore. That’s not our agreement, though. I’m supposed to just go there to hide.
Hiding spots can be anywhere, though, can’t they? In the corner of a room, under the bed, behind a chair.
Maybe Ace can be a hiding place too. I felt safe in his arms. Different from the safety I feel whenever Nolan or Bryce hold me. When I’m with them, my body is safe, but my mind isn’t. It spins and spins and spins.
With Ace, my mind goes quiet. Empty. All I have to do is breathe.
Breathing with Ace is so easy.
He’s not a hiding spot, though. He’s a person.
He deserves to be holding other people. People who aren’t broken. People who feel better when they find out their biggest monster has been slain. People who are real.
Is it because I’m a ghost? Is that why the relief feels like this, all mangled and dark? Mica died, but he killed me first, so it turns out it doesn’t really matter?
It does matter. I know that. Of course it matters. He can’t hurt anyone else now. No one will ever be forced to play his sadistic little games again. Mica will never become another person’s monster.
No one will lay on the floor suffocating because of him, waiting for it to be over.
Only, only, only 45 seconds.
It’s good.
Mica is dead and it’s good.
It just turns out it doesn’t change anything for me. It doesn't save me. It doesn't bring me back to life.
I didn’t realize I was hoping for a resurrection, but I guess I was. A soul for a soul. His life for mine.
It’s not fair that I have to be dead and still hurt this bad.