of blood and lies ; dystopian

38

past

I burst through the apartment.

The door handle slammed hard into the wall. So hard, Karro jumped from his sleeping position in bed.

It was an hour after 7437 left me gaping in the hall.

I threw the duffle bag I held onto the floor. It was filled with items I had left at The Blood; a few books I had hidden and some outfits I stored there for after training. I wasn't sure if I would go back. If I didn't, the Committee would know it was me who murdered her. If I did, 7437 would forever have something above my head.

I did not want either.

Karro was seated in the bed, watching my every movement.

I crawled onto him without speaking a word.

I buried my slick face into his chest. I tightened my arms around his torso and rested my legs on either side of his. I held onto him tight.

I couldn't kill them all.

The only way to gain back control would be to kill everyone—every soul in every Sector. I'd have to kill every person in The Blood and with it Man as well. Terrifyingly, I was willing to kill Man and a god to gain back control.

But, it was not possible.

Karro's arms slid around my waist. He didn't hold me in the way I was him. It didn't matter, though. I felt like I was falling apart. No matter how hard he held me together, it was inevitable.

My skull began to throb as twenty, something, years worth of tears accumulated. I was so close to snapping. I couldn't break. I needed to stay in control. I needed to figure this out.

I couldn't breathe, let alone concentrate on getting myself out of this.

A quiet whimper slid past my lips. The vibrations were muffled by his bare shoulder.

"Naga," Karro hummed. I was going to cut out his tongue. I didn't want to remember that he was here, witnessing it all.

"Don't," I snapped. The words came out as a sob.

Shame crept up my back, heat scattering across my ears and face. "Please, just don't," I said. My body was shaking; I wanted to hold it in. I didn't want him to hear the noises coming out of me.

I couldn't kill them all, I reminded myself.

I was completely, and utterly, out of control.

The moment 7437 squeaked and told The Blood about the murder, I would be dead. I was going to die at the hands of The Blood; my mother; my father; my life.

My body stiffened.

I could kill her.

A child. I debated if I had that in me.

Karro squeezed me harder. I softened into him. My fingers dug at his bare chest; I wanted to tear him open and crawl inside of him. Even this close, it would never feel enough. Nothing would feel safe. I needed to be molded to him, every part of his being branded and fused with my flesh. I wanted his soul, body, and mind to be a mix amongst my own.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I chanted. I wasn't sure he heard it. I didn't want him to hear it.

The beat of his heart against my ear grew louder. I listened to how fast his blood rushed through his veins.

"If work stresses you out this much, you need to grow the fuck up." His tone was bitter. I heard his heart skip when uttering the word work.

To him, I was a teacher.