Page 24 of I’m The Worst

The night is endless, and the snow grows heavier, blinding, narrowing my vision to nothing but the path ahead.

I run.

And run.

And run.

Eventually, I’ll freeze. My body will give up. And then it will be over.

It’s what I deserve.

My legs burn, muscles screaming, but I push harder.

“AJ! AJ!”

The voice is distant, barely audible over the storm.

“AJ!”

The wind whips my hair across my face, the parka doing little to keep me covered. I can’t see, can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I just have to keep moving.

Then, the ground vanishes beneath me, and I fall. A sharp crack, and pain explodes through my ribs and skull as I slam into something hard. Blood floods my mouth. The world spins, my vision fading. I try to push up, but my arms give out, my body collapsing into the snow.

My breaths turn shallow, each inhale weaker than the last. My fingers twitch, but I can’t move.

It’s okay.

It’s better this way. No more pain. No more nightmares… I can finally be free.

My breath steams in the cold air as I scan the ground. Her tracks are fading fast as the snow crunches beneath my boots.

“AJ!” I shout, my voice swallowed by the storm.

I should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve tied her down better. She slipped past me, past Savva, past every precaution I took.

A scream rips through the night.

I break into a sprint, my body plowing through the snow, pushing through the freezing wind. The embankment ahead drops off, a steep slope vanishing into white. And at the bottom⁠—

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I slide down, the powder kicking up around me as I drop next to her. She’s barely breathing. Her skin is frozen when I touch her throat. There’s a weak pulse. Blood mats her hair where she split her head open on something buried beneath the snow.

You stupid fucking girl.

I scoop her up, and her head lolls against my chest. Taking off with her in my arms, I push through the snow, her limp body bouncing with each step. The wind is whipping, snow and ice stinging my face until I get back to the house.

Kicking the front door open, I charge through, straight to the bathroom. She’s ice cold. If I don’t warm her up now, she’s dead. The shower’s on in seconds, water hitting my skin like needles. I don’t wait. I drag her in, fully clothed, both of us under the spray.

“Come on, AJ,” I mutter, shifting her against me.

I yank at her soaked clothes, stripping them off. Her ribs jut from her pale skin. More than before. Bruises overlap along her thighs and hips. Faded bite marks. Track marks along her arm.

I strip my own clothes and pull her back against my chest under the water.

She’s barely responsive, her breaths shallow, skin red and raw. I rub her arms, her legs, anywhere I can to force the warmth back in.

“Wake up,” I plead.