The Flower
She’s There - Jenna Raine
No, no, no, no, no. My mind has been in non-stop panic mode. It’s been days since that night with Axel. The memory of taking Parker's life has been replaying every chance it gets. Like psychological torture.
As much as I would like to put the blame on Axel, I can’t.
I had everything to do with it. He didn’t force me to push that knife into Parker's chest. I did that all on my own, and what's awful about it is that I loved doing it. Like in that moment, instant gratification hit me like a truck. Now? Not so much. It’s the aftermath.
Now I’m left with memories and regret. Begging on my knees for forgiveness is past me. The fact that detectives had already paid me a visit forty-eight hours after Parker went missing and lying about not seeing him, was just the cherry on the cake.
Axel insisted that I not say anything. It was me and him, or being locked up forever. How selfish is that? I might be better off rotting away in prison. The way my mind is eating at me with guilt makes me feel like I’m already in a prison of my own making.
I counted all the ways I could to make it make sense.
To make excuses for my actions, but there aren’t any.
I had no right to do that to another human, no matter how awful he was.
I even resorted to thinking he would've killed me first and if I didn't do what I did… Then maybe I’d be in his position right now.
I look over at the wilted bouquet on my nightstand. It was the last one Axel sent me, taunting me with its death. The timing couldn't be more ironic. Finding beauty in death with nature is easy. Finding beauty in death with humans, is not.
“Just checking in on you. Dahlia, please talk to me,” Zoe says, knocking on my door, startling me. I don’t answer. I’ve kept myself locked in my room, shutting the world out once again. The world and Zoe. Zoe had always been an exception, but I can’t bring myself to face her after what I’ve done.
She thinks I’m sheltering away because, as much as she knows I dislike Parker, she thinks I’m mourning his death. She has no idea what kind of person I turned into, and that I’m the one who basically made him disappear.
She has not the slightest clue. Only that he went missing, and I’ve been caged away in my sorrow since. She wouldn't know the difference. I don’t think she would know what to do if I ever told her. I hate that I can’t share this with her. This is a secret I’m taking to my grave.
The investigation into Parker's disappearance has been all over the news, haunting me like recurrent nightmares. I was interrogated for hours. They had street footage of me being one of the last people seen with him. I almost broke.
Almost.
Axel's voice kept overriding my thoughts. I couldn't turn myself in. That means I would turn him in, and I–I just can’t bring myself to do that. Like I have some responsibility to protect him. Like he did with me.
I've hardly heard anything since. They have been talking to everyone that's been in contact with him, including everyone from work. I’m sure they quickly found out he wasn't very liked. For my sake, I hope it makes it harder of an investigation for them.
How can I move on from something like this?
I can’t. I know Karma will pay a visit to me soon.
For my sake, I hope she doesn’t go easy on me.
Not that she hasn’t lately. If me rationalizing a harsh punishment to keep my mind at ease a little, then that’s what I’ll do.
It's the only truth, though. I do deserve it.
Axel's been blowing up my phone, making it aware that he urgently wants to see me. I’ve been ignoring him. It’s all I can think to do right now. My brain isn’t processing like it normally does. If only I can just open my skull and take it out for a moment of peace.
As much as my mind has been deciding what to bombard me with, I keep getting pulled back to Axel. I see the way he looks at me. Everything I do is like perfection in his eyes. Like I can do no wrong. No matter how I look, or what I do, he is so enamoured by me.
I find myself feeling the same way. I know the things he does are wrong. I know he has made many mistakes in his life, but what I also know is that a lonely, troubled child is screaming for love inside of him.
I don’t think he is a psychopath. I think those who have seen him are wrong. I don’t think he's incapable of having feelings. I think he just doesn’t know how to process them. He was never loved. He was never safe. He was never valued.
I think he is just misunderstood.
He might be the only one now to help me, whether he knows it or not. A goody two-shoes girl who had nearly a perfect life, is now damaged. Damaged beyond repair, and the only person who could understand her is someone who only knows a life of being broken.