VAIN | Inside the Universe

Chapter Fifteen • A Gangster's Paradise

It was for a moment that I finally felt alone.

That fate was gifted to me a long time ago as a wretched curse, but it has since matured to be my own place of true solace. I like to think that in these rare moments that I could hear the bludgeoned soul of my true self, reminding me that it is still there under everything I've built to keep it safe from..everything, I suppose.

But she doesn't necessarily speak. Or move. She doesn't do anything. For a second, she is not my past or my present or my blessing or my damnation. She simply is. And I can't remember a time when I was simply and surely anyone.

I don't hear her often. As I said, it was just a moment.

The strong conviction of the sun seems to have acknowledged my comfort--god forbid I have a second to breathe my own air. Yet, it seems he is just the one who wants all my attention for himself.

My consciousness seems to flood in with each ray of morning, eager to catch me up on all that I have missed, the first thought being him. The doubt, the questions, the one unfulfilled mission. He has consumed every empty second of my thoughts despite how hard I try to involve myself in anything else. Nothing--no job, no event, no person--should ever have this much of an effect, and yet he does.

It's toxic, yet probably more deadly to think he holds the answers for everything I have ever been searching for, but he seems to be at the end of every tunnel I have been running through. Perhaps he does have answers. Perhaps he is more involved, but It's possible I've been giving him this credit because of my own desperation--my own fascination with someone who has left me in such a state I usually leave others.

I want him alive. I need to rip his throat out myself so he's out of my head forever.

My thoughts of him cost me. No thought ends well and almost all conclusions I draw lead to my sure death. They soften my walls that have been heavy against the ceiling, my mind vulnerable, almost as weak as my flesh. Yet my defense against this weakness has been just as telling. Darkness had found me once again at the start of this, protecting me when I need it, feeding off these very thoughts.

I feel its presence stronger now, perhaps all thanks to him. Darkness has moved in with more than a suitcase. I feel roots. It wants a permanent residence.

If it intends to grow, that I will happily be. Ruthless, evil, and darkness in its purest form.

As if the battle for control over my own mind was not incentive enough to get up, a 100 pound brick with the face of a pillow slams against my face.

I lift my chest off the bed before another hit could come raging down, but as I open my eyes the only thing I can see is Nat staring intently at the ceiling, laying calm as ever.

"Did you just-"

"Can you just listen? Like don't talk or touch me or anything. Just sit there and don't move." She snaps.

I let my body fall limp into the mattress as an involuntary sigh robs me of all my breath. "Hit me with it."

There's a long silence, lasting about a minute, where she seemed to contemplate whether or not to actually speak. Right when I started to find the comfort in the idea of falling back asleep, her words spilt out all at once, as if they had just escaped from the prison inside of her head.

"Am I truly no one at all because of all the masks I'm forced to wear?"

I reluctantly roll my head on the pillow to face her, but her thoughts still seem scattered across the ceiling. "Are you high?"