she's worse

26

I don't have to be friends with Asteria to be nice to her. As much as she doesn't like me, she's trying to to be civil with me.

As I followed her to the room I was staying in and I took of my shirt, laying in the same position I was in last night. I'll let the soreness from the back massage heal over the next couple days, but my back had so many knots last night, I wanted more out today. I have always been an impatient woman, especially when it came to my health and healing processes. Speeding up this process would allow for her hands to be off of me sooner and my back to be healed quicker. I still loathed that I had my back touched, however, I needed to recover.

Her thumbs rubbed oil onto the stiff parts of my back, and I would flinch as she rolled over a knot and then go over it again. But I had to keep still and let it happen. Her hands roamed my back and to stop the pain from shooting up my spine, I thought about the one thing I was good at. Murder.

I thought of blood and the body as I desperately tried to recall every aspect of the human body which would allow for a quick and easy kill. I let my mind wander into the depths of nephrology. They kidneys were the pissy princesses of the body. One wrong move and they shut down. I'm more terrified of being on dialysis than being dead.

"This is going to hurt, okay?" Asteria said and I just kept thinking about weirder and weirder things. If I give someone enough E.Coli and poison them with their own fecal matter, then their personal hygiene can be blamed for their death. Plus, its cruel. And staphylococcus, no, not staph. I didn't want to think about staph while someone's hands were on me and the wounds on my back. "How do you feel about your sister running away?" Asteria asked, snapping me out of my death-starved thoughts.

"Are you asking me how I feel about my pretentious, obnoxious, fake womb sharer, then I want to tell you I am fucking pissed. She's always, always, had it perfect. And even if it wasn't perfect, she had the resources it make it perfect handed to her. She had everything she needed to survive. And here she is, getting more and more of what she wants. She's running away. How very much her. I don't care. I'll be happy if she suffers," I scoff as I answer. Each word coming out of my mouth, placed extra emphasis on the distaste I had for that bitch. The sweet southern girl with the perfect life. Selfish, self absorbed, bitch. I take a deep breath before continuing. "I don't think I would have cared so much if she hadn't said what she did about me today," I respond honestly.

"What I'm hearing is that you have no purpose to your life other than revenge. Everything needs revenge." I push myself up and face her, not caring that I'm bare waist up. She doesn't look below my face as I turn to her. "What? Did you expect me to sympathize with your need for revenge because you killed my mother, Selene?" She laughed as she brought a hand to my cheek, a wicked smirk forming on her face. "We are nothing like each other. You are driven by your flawed sense of good through revenge. I can own up to who I am to change, not destroy. You are not the light you think you are." She let go of my face.

"You make yourself seem so perfect for being the different child. For seeing the corruption in your family. You aren't. Looking at the consequences of your actions is the bare minimum thing that you rich people don't care for. Stop glorifying yourself for doing the thing everyone else does," I say back. "Who cares that I destroy things? There's nothing good about them, is there? If it was corrupt once, it can become corrupt again. So why not rebuild the system instead of changing it. Nothing is without loopholes." She's closer than I remembered, looking into my face like it's holding some kind of secret.

"You have his eyes," She whispers. "Too dark to decipher, you know?"

"I know. I killed him too, you know?" She inches back as I say it, clearly not what she was expecting me to say. "There is no need for you to bring up my biological makeup."