His eyes lingered on my face, the wicked glint it held suggesting that he had something in mind. I raised a perfect eyebrow at him, and he flashed me a devilish, cunning smile.
❝ Why don't we do it? ❞ he proposed, his voice deliciously husky. ❝ No s...
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My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction — My Strange Addiction by Billie Eilish
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MY SWEET, SWEET mother was a strong believer in the saying: good things come to those who wait. And she waited, and waited, and waited for my father to leave his whore of a mistress and come back to her. My sweet mother waited and prayed for his return even on her deathbed, even in her final breath.
I could only wish that she saw the horror in my father's eyes when he returned to his house to find his whore in the living room with her stomach gutted open and their unborn child pulled out from its sanctuary. Or to hear the sound of his neck snapping when he hung himself with the noose I had prepared for him.
My sweet mother believed that the world played a fair game, so I did what I could to even the odds, to balance the scales. Her death was in their hands and their deaths were a punishment long overdue.
My eyes remained fixed on the television screen ahead as I watched my beloved Blaire talk about her new relationship with this scum named Dylan Ashby.
Apparently, they had been secretly dating for a while now, and it was such a shame to have known about it too late. I waited patiently for years, enduring the torture of confinement, only for my Blaire to move on and find someone else.
I was just like my sweet, sweet mother, blinded by the notion of love.
To wait meant to lose, and I had lost my Blaire to a scum unworthy of her heart. A scum who would pay the price for stealing what belonged to me.
"Congrats on your parole being granted."
A smile worked its way to my face. "I had almost forgotten about that."
"You'll finally be out of here."
"Soon."
Soon, my love. We'll finally be together.
And I would never leave your side again.
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