3rd book the Devil May Care Series
Remember Lucas King? The suicidal kid who can barely stand to get up in the morning because he's just that tired of life? Lucas has struggled with depression since he was just a kid, always feeling like he was neve...
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I watch as he starts pouring the alcohol down the street, in a straight line through the middle just like I asked before turning around and doing the same up here except I pour the alcohol down the edges of the building and then move towards the pavement of the roof and pouring it all over.
When I'm done, I jump towards the next building which isn't really a far jump and do the same. I think about the girl I live with or lived with, thinking about how jumpy and scared she was when she first came to the group home. I remember how she recoiled at everyone's touch, everyone's touch but mine and I feel anger bubble into the pit of my stomach as I continue to to spill alcohol.
She was doing so good. She was getting better until earlier today when she killed herself. I swallow down thickly as I remember the note she left me, "I love you, Astraea." Is what she wrote, it's all she wrote. She was probably the only person whose ever loved me and now she was gone. I had a plan for her, for us and she left me. She left me alone.
I feel the tears fall down my face just thinking about her. She was a good person. She was the sweetest person I'd ever met and she cared about me. She'd help me clean up any wounds on my body, carrying around her cute little emergency kit. She'd take the blame for me because she was scared I'd get my ass beat but she didn't know that I could take it and I'd take any beaten to keep her safe. I'd do anything for her and she killed herself. Why would she do that? Why would she do that to me?
I thought she was happy.
A sob escapes my mouth as the bottle finishes. It's their fault. They took her innocence. They made her scared. They traumatized her, raped her and took whatever happiness her soul once held. I was going to burn them alive. I was going to make them regret ever being born.
She killed herself because of what they did to her. She was never getting better. She was just pretending for me and I believed it. Oh god, I believed it. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand, I didn't deserve to cry—not when I couldn't see the signs. Not when I could've stopped it, I could've. She asked me to stay home with her today and I left. I fucking left because of that stupid fucking family that supposedly wanted to meet me, maybe even foster me only to find out they rescheduled.
I should've stayed.
When I finish pouring the alcohol everywhere, I throw the glass against the floor before pulling out my lighter. I peek over the edge to check if the boy was done doing what I asked him too. He was. He was staring up at me as, waiting for a signal.
"Burn it!" I yell loud enough for him to hear.
He doesn't hesitate and I watch him flicker with the lighter before holding it against the pavement. I watch the flames come to life and grow. I watch it rush down the street in a straight line before my eyes move to the buildings he sprayed alcohol on, doing the same thing as before. I watch it burn. I watch it all burn, a dark smile growing on my face as I get up and do the same thing from where I am.
