Epilogue
RUNRUNRUN - Dutchmelrose
You run, and I’ll come find you, Little Flower. I sign my name at the bottom of the letter. I place a picture of her sleeping next to it, tucking it on my nightstand for her to see.
I promised I would take her out to a late dinner, but I have something else on mind that I know my depraved girl would enjoy. She’s been sleeping over every night; I asked her to just move in and she jumped at the chance.
The Z’s, Zoe and Zane are so far up each other’s asses, Dahlia was basically at the apartment alone. Seeing as my Little Flower and Zoe don’t have a place of employment now, it worked out for the best that Zane and I took them in.
I had to keep reassuring my girl that she didn’t need to work if she lived with me, but she is as stubborn as a doornail. So we’ve been looking, but no luck yet.
The mysterious disappearance of Parker Raines has been the talk of the city still. No leads on what happened, which makes me happy knowing Zane and I covered our tracks well. I guess we will never know what actually happened. Well, everyone else won’t ever know that is.
Dahlia has been having nightmares almost every night. The constant war she’s having with herself from that night is taking a toll on her psyche. She clings to me like I’m the only one who can help her.
Kind of ironic, isn't it?
She's fucked up like I am now. Am I sorry I did this to her? No. She is everything I’ve wanted.
She’s everything I’ve needed. Like air. Without her, I don’t think I can live.
Without her, there is no life worth living.
Before her, I was lost. She is my life now.
I didn’t know what my purpose was until I saw her.
I knew she would be the missing puzzle piece to my fucked up life.
The last patch to fix this hollow hole. She can’t take the piece back. I won’t allow it. I wanted her to need me like I needed her. Even if that meant breaking her mind apart.
Ever since the letter, my flashbacks have been manageable. Who would’ve known something as simple as a letter to a piece of shit ghost from my past would work?
Dahlia wasn't fazed by my confession to killing my parents. She didn't care as much about it. Only about how I felt and what came next, being only thirteen years old.
Good old foster homes were next. No one wanted me though. They said, “You could see the crazy in his eyes.” When in reality, it was the brokenness. Families only wanted the shiny kids. They didn’t have to say it, I felt it. Nothing I wasn’t fucking used to, anyway.
I slip my mask over my face and head toward the backwoods. Living away from the city, I have Mother Nature in my backyard. The plan I'm conjuring in my mind has me getting stiff.
I tug downward on my zipper, giving my half-stiffened cock a little breathing room. Branches break under my footsteps as I make my way deeper into the woods with purpose.