Angel Grade (Wattys 2016)

22.Selfish souls Pt.1

[Carla, present day]

Dear diary,

I have made a terrible mistake. It's been dawning on me gradually for quite a while, but it wasn't until a couple of days ago that I realised exactly how wrong I had been in loving Luis.

To say that the past week had been riddled with a series of unfortunate events would be an understatement. It had been more like a fury of pain and anger and hurt and pointing of fingers and the quiet submission to the understanding that some mistakes cannot be fixed no matter how many tears are shed, punches thrown and insults shouted.

Having just come back from the funeral and still drying the ends of my hair (how is it that it always rains at funerals?), my mind keeps going back to the last time we spoke before that fateful day. And trust me, when I call it fateful I am not even being overly dramatic.

Having just returned from my search for Christopher's services (turns out nothing quite fixes chronical heartbreak like a good 'shag', as the English call it), and having been hugely displeased to not have found him anywhere, I was certainly not in the mood to have an exchange with the sarcastic redhead, especially after the little accident with her foster brother. And especially not when she was coming from the general direction of Luis' room.

The thought of them being back to their usual 'arrangement' made me sick to my stomach and with not a small amount of surprise I realised for the most part it was not jealousy making me feel that way, but rather disgust at the fact that someone could go back to having sex with the person who had killed someone so close to their heart. But then again, maybe Vanessa truly did not have a heart.

'Done sulking already, vermin? You must be seriously horny!'

She just looked at me with her big bright eyes, and for the first time since I have known her, she was not even remotely moved by my spiteful remarks.

'You know what, Carla? You can have him! All of him. Though to be completely honest with you, that's not much,' she said with a dark chuckle. A tiny part of me that is still devoted to Lui flared with wrath.

'Just because you are a heartless psycho bitch, doesn't mean you can treat people like objects. Luis is not your belonging for you to give away. He is a much better person than you can ever hope to be,' I shot back, panting slightly with the effort to keep from shouting by the end of my sentence.

Vanessa just looked at me for a few seconds before shaking her head slowly, almost as if she was sympathetic to my naivety.

'You are right. Well, at least about the psycho bitch part. Might come as a surprise for you but this is actually one of the nicer terms people have used to refer to me,' I opened my mouth to say something, not quite sure just what exactly, but she silenced me with an index finger lifted in the air. 'However, here is a final piece of friendly advice from me, Germany. Leave. And the sooner, the better'.

When she had said that to me on that evening, I had been fully convinced she meant it as a threat, telling me I will not last long if I keep calling her out on her shortcomings. Hence, I had narrowed my eyes at Vanessa and watched with disdain as she had given me one final headshake and stalked off to some activity that surely involved being intoxicated in at least one way.

Now, a week later, I know what Lilith's daughter actually meant. Leave. Get away from the toxic shell of a man that is Luis. And the sooner, the better. Leave while you still have anything left inside of you worth leaving for, worth not destroying yourself irreparably with the flick of a pen.

Funny how the words of the dead always enlighten you more than the actions of the living.

It wasn't until I saw my nemesis being shut in a coffin that it fully sank – I had made a terrible mistake. But somehow, without even knowing it, the redhead stranger had barged into my life and saved me from becoming what the rest of them already are when they arrived at the Crypt – a soul so dishevelled by heartbreak it was not capable of loving anymore, not even itself.

I had made a terrible mistake in falling in love with Satan's son. But more importantly, I had narrowly avoided the true disaster – having him fall in love with me.

As I pack the last of my belongings into the only suitcase I have taken with me when I rushed over to this island what feels like an eternity ago, I can't help but smile a little. The succubus of a woman had managed to one-up the most powerful Nephilim from her grave.

There are many kinds of love in the world, but only the truly lucky get to experience the selfless kind of love that they show in the movies. It would appear that whoever said 'It is a thin line between love and hate' didn't just say it for the benefit of the producers of Romantic Comedies. It is out of innate selfishness and not suffering that a man who had claimed to love a woman overpoweringly and unconditionally, who had let her come close enough to his heart as to have the power to crush it, then turns around and lashes out at her with hatred so passionate it puts Lucifer to shame.

I had almost made a terrible mistake. So I raise my chin and don't bother saying goodbye to the monster I used to love as I walk out of the Crypt and don't look back.

Love,

Carla