Masquerade

Twentyseven: A fork in the road

If I had a dollar for every sob story I heard, I could have bought myself a new identity already, its always the self pity, all this self depreciation, like, „If I could have just known better" or „So much trouble could have been avoided if I got taught better".
One after the other, every family had one to justify why they took me in, troubles as child or adult.
They always pitied themselves and all the others involved, that's the oldest trick, a trick this Lilith tried masterfully.

I try a smirk, as the cigarette begins to slowly burn up, yet the pull has a bitter side taste.
„What a dumb bitch, oh no, I did so much wrong, just because I couldn't open up, wanna try?", I laugh out as I finish the sentence, taking in the view, trying to distract me.

You pity yourself for it

I dont turn to face the place the voice came from, still in my head, not in the real world, not capable of shit.

You already fabricated a reason to hate her, just because you envy her

I walk on, through the almost empty streets of the small town, only a few people pass by, I duck into a nearby ally, trashcans of a restaurant stand in line to the wall.

You admonish her for accomplishing what you...

„SHUT UP!", I just scream it into the alley, to no-one but the grey faded shadows of the surrounding buildings and a puddle.
I can't help but lean against a wall, my legs feeling weak, my hands shaking.
All what she has done and her voice was so ... clear. How could she be so open about it, how can she face down the dark hallway of her past, while I shatter as soon as the light goes out?
My breathing feels ragged, my throat dry and raspy.
Just crying yourself out to others doesn't make you stronger, they could use it against you, cut you, push you out, usurp your strength.
With fidgety fingers I light myself another cigarette, as I look up into the sky.
I can feel the nicotine slowing down my mind, calming my worries, clearing my thoughts.
One question lasts, is it better to know you are fucked up and still not doing anything about it or to be blissful about ones own state.
Anyway, why think about it if I can't do shit about it now, its time to return home.

Eda is still running her shop, the house above empty and almost silent.
My room looks a cleaned up, almost no sign of the mess I caused yesterday evening, only a small scratch in the floor is still there, I cover it with my jacket as I throw it to the ground.
Laying down onto my bed, my thoughts shoot back to school, Eda covered me for today, said I got food poisoning from some Mikados pizza, hellish stuff.
Perhaps Amity is back tomorrow, maybe also not", I sigh as my stomach weirdly turns, it doesn't feel bad, but so frightening unusual. Its weird to not know, what is actually up with your body, having no control whatsoever, it doesn't fit my likings.
From that perspective, what hasn't slipped out of control lately?
I can't hold up the facade I build up so carefully, everything seems to overthrow itself, but at least I have people I can rely on, Zander seems okay, Amity is weird but maybe also a good way to gain standing.
My temples suddenly ache, not unusual, perhaps a soon to be common thing, with the regularity of his visits.
„Go away, im not yours to torment today, go haunt some of those other lesser humans you hated so much", I spit it into the corner of my room, where the darkness seems denser as usual.
No response, just headaches.
Could it be the proximity of asshat number two that sets him of that much? Feeling the roots of your family that close could ruse some of us up.

The ache slowly fades, as the pulsing in my head stops, insulted him enough it seems, one victory for me.

„Hey Luz, already home?", Eda voice echos from the entrance hallway,,
„I brought takeout if you're hungry!", she calls with a bewitching undertone in her voice, one that lets my stomach growl, although I feel uneasy about the confrontation that could follow.
„Oh, there you are, how was your day? Got some sleep back in?", she asks, setting down two plates and handing me one of the small boxes.
I just give her the usual, Okay and Yes answers and she seems satisfied,
„I got you the number 68, if it doesn't suit you, his rice and vegetables alone are supreme enough", she says, as she begins to chow down on the food.
As i begin to eat myself, I feel, relieved, no questions about therapy, no attempt at probing, nothing.
„So, no question about Lilith?", I ask, perhaps to feel like I was right, that she secretly wants to know how it went, that I was right, that she wants to control how I best this fight.

And yet, she at first doesn't react, drawing red lines of Sriracha over her food, before giving me a knowing look.
„I can build a road for you, Luz, but I can't force you to take it, the destination that you would reach by that, would feel forced upon you. It would possess no value in your eyes, so, I do my best to prepare your for your journey, but you on your own will have to determine where it ends"