Thirty-One

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*gasps* nina *cries* ninA *punches wall* niNA *hyperventilates* NINa

S I M O N E
The area where Kai had taken out the stitches is itchy, and most of all, it's annoying. There's a small red rash forming on my chest, just the scar tissue of the wound. Visions of the car crash rise in the back of my mind, causing me to visibly cringe.

Right now, we're at some gas station in Washington, nearing Canada. I'm sitting in the bathroom, washing my face after hours of driving. I mean, the bathroom isn't even inside. It's just a door on the side of the building. Like, why?

We would've crossed the border by now, but it's regulated, and no one it going to welcome a sociopath and a potential sociopath, with open arms.

Lately I've thought a lot about labels. I mean, labels shouldn't matter. What even is a label? What makes it so special? Well, a label is classifying phrase or name applied to a person or thing. Labels are the type of phrases thrown around in high school. But recently I've been thinking. Classifying Kai is quite easy.

Sociopath.

Sociopath. It's a noun. The definition of it is quite simple; A person with a psychopathic personality whose behavior is antisocial, often criminal, and who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience. So basically Kai.

But what am I? Is there a word for a person like me? Psychopath doesn't fit. Does that automatically count me as a sociopath, then? Serial killer fits Kai's persona, but not me. I haven't killed more than three people.

Oh, that's right, just two. My conscious reminds me, succeeding in making me feel terrible. I feel guilty. That's the difference.

People say theirs no difference between sociopath and psychopath, but they're wrong. Dead wrong. There's one important, small reason why Kai is not a psychopath.

Psychopaths do not show remorse, or guilt. They kill without reason, they kill without mercy. Sociopaths, on the other hand, feel guilt. Their emotional connection is able to reach only the people they have an emotional connection to. Beyond that safety circle, is chaos. Free range. Because behind that circle of remorse and love, a sociopath will just be your ordinary psychopath.

I'm in that circle, Kai's circle, whether I like it or not.

Because I've come to the inevitable conclusion that Malachai Parker is a sociopath. A month ago, I wouldn't have known the difference. I've pondered over this question for a long time now. But I've finally found the answer. Just by observation.

I've solved the puzzle that is Kai Parker.

It wasn't hard. It isn't as hard as finding the appropriate label for myself. But again, why use labels? Sure, once in a while the news reporter needs something to call the latest criminal. But why stress over it? People try so hard to fit into a category when the answer is simple. You are your own category. Kai is himself. Kai Parker. He doesn't need to be anything else. He's just Kai. And me, well I'm Simone. Just Simone. In someone else's mind I might be a sociopath. I might be a girl with Stockholm syndrome. To some I might be kitten. To others I might be crazy. Sure, I'm all those things, but I am Simone.

What drove me to this decision over labels, you ask? Well, the answers simple. That bitchy news reporter thinks she knows everything about me. Nick thinks he knows everything about me. Dad thinks he knows everything about me. I think I know everything about myself. But I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

I've come to the sad conclusion that the only person that knows anything about me is Kai Parker. Because when it comes to me, he's remembered everything. To some, it's creepy. Sure, it really is. But when I look at it, in Kai's eyes, I'm worth remembering.

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