I reach for the hand-sickle I placed under the blanket, telling myself that I can do this. My heart pounds as Bentley tears my head toward his.
“I love you, Mel,” he says. It throws me. I don't know why I wasn't expecting it. I know he doesn't mean it. How could he love me after everything he did to me? I know I don't love him back because of what I'm planning on doing... because of who I really do love... because of who I am doing this for.
I can't take it anymore and I pull out the hand-sickle. I raise it high above my head. I see my reflection sparkle in Bentley's wide eyes. I feed off of his fear – it's filling me with confidence. Every part of me is screaming at me to finish it – to prove myself to Elijah. But, instead, I relish in the moment, enjoying every last second.
“Mel, what the fuck?” he screams, trying to back away. But I'm too strong for him. He's helpless... and in my clutches. I should just put him out of his misery, but I'm loving the fear, enjoying the struggle. I feel a devilish smile cross my face crawl across my face... it isn't mine. This isn't me. I'm not the same, and once I do this, I never will be. I know that, and I'm okay with it because this is right. This is the time.
The hand-sickle comes down with a slash – slicing Bentley's face open like a ham on Easter Day. The blood splatters on me and I love it. I can smell it and it fills me with the most empowering feeling one can experience. I am in charge of life and death. I am in complete control of something that is not me. I decide whether it lives or whether it dies. And now, I want it somewhere in-between.
Its screams fill the air, but only Elijah and I can hear it, and neither will help. Blood gushes from it and I wonder how long it would take if I just let it bleed out. A shrill laugh fills the air and rings in my ears. I'm surprised to find that it comes from inside me. It's my heart screaming at me... asking me what I'm doing, and begging me to stop; for my old self to snap back. But I won't. I refuse to. This feels too good to stop. It feels right... Do that only which is right.
As I finish the job, all falls silent and the only thing I can do is smile smugly to myself. I did it. Despite all my doubts and worries, I did it. I am brave. I am strong. I feel accomplished.
I look at what I achieved. It's covered in blood and still bleeding. I no longer recognize it... It doesn't look anything like it used to. The world around me slowly fades until all my attention is on it... Nothing fills my mind asides from memories...
I'm 12 and he's holding me as I cry, rocking back forth. He whispers in my ear that everything will be okay. I clutch his shoulders as he runs his fingers through my long hair.
With a flicker of firefly in the night – I'm three. He's with me, laughing as he knocks down my block tower. I yell at him, placing my hands on my hips and stomping my feet. His face becomes sad as he tries to hug me – a six-year-old's attempt at an apology. I push him away.
A crack of thunder and I'm eight – trapped in a bus-stop during a hurricane. My heart is pounding and all I want is to hug my mommy who should have been there on the last bus. Bentley appears, smiling before me and offers his rain-jacket. I take it and smile as he sits next to me, placing his arm around me as his mother kindly explains that my mother's bus was canceled and I'll be staying with them for the night.
A crow squawks – and I'm fourteen in Bentley's car on Halloween. You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift flashes on the radio and Bentley looks at me with his intense eyes, telling me that I'm beautiful in his own way. He leans toward me and I can't breathe. I know what's coming. His lips touch mine, but before I can enjoy our first kiss, I am brought back to reality.
His mutilated body lies in front of me. Realization washes over me as my heart tells me I have known him my entire life. I think about what I did to him just a few minutes ago, and I don't know how to feel.
A slow clap interrupts my train of thought. I turn my head to see Elijah sauntering towards me, wearing a proud smile upon his narrow face. Star strides beside him, loyal... as if she's his dog and not mine.
“I didn't think you had it in you,” he admits as he stops in front of me. Star wags her tail approvingly as she sniffs the dead body.
“I'm impressed, but not really surprised. After all, we have a connection. I knew you'd come through one way or another.”
I don't know what to say. I can hardly believe what I've done, and I certainly don't know what I should do next.
As if he can read my thoughts, Elijah asks, “Are you okay?” He peers into my eyes, resting a hand on my shoulder.
“I feel like I shouldn't be... like I should feel regret or remorse. But, I don't. It's rejuvenating in a way,” I say in a small, uncertain voice.
“That's the adrenaline,” Elijah says smoothly, offering out his hand. I take it and he helps me to my feet.
“You need rest. Go home and I'll take care of this,” he promises, kissing my forehead. I nod absentmindedly and start to walk away, happy that I know the way home by heart – I don't think I can concentrate on anything right now.
“Go with Mel,” I hear Elijah command Star. “She's earned you,” he adds. The jingle of Star’s collar follows along behind me as she follows me home. The moon lights my path and offers some comfort in the dark night.
Soon, I reach my window and crawl through it. I can't think. I can't feel. My whole heart is numb and all I want is to be in my warm bed, wrapped up in the protective shield of blankets. I never want the sun to come up. I can't handle the thought of facing the day.
A man lurks in the darkest shadows of my room. I catch a glimpse of him through the corner of my eye.
“Elijah?” I ask, feeling around for the light switch.
The man steps into the moonlight and I freeze. My lungs stop working and my heart goes into overdrive. He's not Elijah at all. He's old and weak. His white hair is nearly all gone from his head. His breathing is heavy and his skin is bruised and blotchy, thinly stretched across his bones. His eyes are deep in their sockets, nearly drained of all life.
“Don't trust him, Mel. There are things you don't yet know,” he says through strained breath. I can't take my eyes off of him. I feel my blood rush away from my head and my skin turn cold. I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
