of blood and lies ; dystopian

36

A night passed and I could still feel him.

When I woke, I did not feel a heavy weight on my chest, pinning me to the mattress. My skin tingled and buzzed; the remaining waves of orgasm lingered across my skin.

Karro had never made me feel like this. So raw. So real.

I knelt beside the door. I traced my fingers lightly across my arms as I stared up at the small slit. I wanted to make myself feel this euphoric. I wanted to find an excuse for how he made me feel this good. If I made myself feel electric, then I would no longer have to credit him for his existence.

My eyes slowly shut.

I kept my back to him, trying to ignore the hole being burnt through my backside.

Karro slept more than I had last night. I stayed in his bed, even through my wakeful periods. His fingers traced light circles along my skin through the night.

I continued to rub my arms. I needed to make myself feel how I had last night. He couldn't have that power over me.

I hated how easy it was to seep back into him; to forget the harsh words we'd thrown at each other. It terrified me. Everything about Karro terrified me. No man, no gun, no war, and no Doctor would ever compare to how horrifying it felt with him.

We'd forever be aligned with each other.

I had no control over that.

I cleared my throat, pulling myself from the labyrinth I was spiraling toward. "If I had a hanger and a decade I could get this door open," I said, unable to turn to him. I looked at the tray beside my knees. Today, we'd been given three sandwiches and five bags of soap. I'd forever be grateful for the surplus beneath his bed.

"I could," I argued. "If it is The Blood, then it is made of magnets." I assumed it was made of magnets. I didn't hear many clicks when the slit opened each morning. Plus, when the door was open, there was no sign of a lock on the other side.

I braved Karro. I focused on the tallies behind his face. It was better than having to meet his eyes. "How long have I been here?"

"A little over a month," Karro said.

I looked back at my thighs. I fiddled with the loose fabric. "That's what I thought." I frowned.

"Ready to leave me?"

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing them again. My cheeks felt like they were going to melt off of my face in gooey flesh. I wanted to rip myself apart. Or kill him. Either would solve the issue in my chest and core.

"I haven't gotten my period," I said. I didn't in that place, either. There was a large scar on my belly. A scar from Karro's wrath. I wondered if his blade had damaged me; something inside me.

Karro shifted behind me, lying on his back.

I needed a drink, cheering Karro's apparent surgical skills. My nails dug into my thighs.

I crawled across the floor and reached for a spare pouch of alcohol. Karro alone had drunk through an entire pile of whiskey. I wondered if it was me who stressed him out so badly. I knew it was him who pushed me to drink.

I downed a shot of whiskey. And then a few.

My fingers lingered on my stomach. I was once so ready for life to bloom in my womb. I'd taken it as my life mission, to raise a child in the opposite way I'd been raised. It'd heal me, in a way. I was ready.

I wasn't ready now. I wasn't as selfish. I would never want to bring something so light and pure, as a child is, into this world. It'd be torture and I wanted no part in that.

I gulped and looked up at Karro.

He stared down at where I held my belly.

I looked away when his face softened. He had no right to show pity. He'd created life, and taken it from me. Over love.

I recalled 7437, the night so many years ago when she'd showed up against my door. I never want to be in love if it feels like that.

I didn't know what it felt like. It felt like too much brewing together; I couldn't figure out what it had felt like.

Some nights, love felt like an enemy. Other nights, love felt like a friend.

I decided it was both.

No matter what happened, it would be there, haunting me. If Karro were to hold me as I spoke of the horrid things that occurred in the dark, I'd feel love. If he held a gun to my head and pumped it full of lead, I'd feel love.

My jaw trembled. I kept my back to Karro. He would not see me like this; not over something he had done.

I swallowed anything trying to rise up my throat. I could hear my Generals. I could hear the Murthaa. Weak fucking girl.

I did feel weak. I was weak. But, I was growing accustomed to the feeling.