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Pride swells in my chest and disgust coats my tongue when I think about what I just did. I just need to remind myself that everything I do is justified, even though I’m no longer saving myself. This isn’t about leaving the In-Between anymore. I’m getting my revenge and securing my parents’ spot alongside the Grim Reaper.

I look for my mother and see her sobbing at the wall. Out of breath, I roll my eyes and search for Attie. When we make eye contact, a toothy smile appears on his handsome face, and I know I’ve done well.

CHAPTER 42

LYRIC

Ipush myself backward and plop onto the floor. I need to sit down. Cash tries to talk, but all that comes out is blood and groans of agonizing pain. Tears soak the upper half of his pillow, while blood coats the lower half. What a beautiful mixture.

“Hmm… what else don’t you know?” I ask my stepfather sarcastically as I tap my chin in mock thought.

He shakes his head, his eyes pleading with me to stop… but I won’t.

“You don’t know that I saw you looking up kiddie porn on the internet.” I firmly state.

Cash can’t defend himself at this point, not with words, and not with actions. He’s completely at my mercy.

I used to play out whole scenarios in my head about how I would get my revenge one day. I didn’t think I’d actually get it. This is better than I could have imagined. The way that I have all the power. The way that I make him squirm—the fear and anxiety oozing off my stepfather… It’s delightful.

I sit up and feel around for one of the items I took from the drawer. Pulling out a pen, I hold it above Cash’s eye.

“You are one sick fuck, and you’ll never get to look at old photos of me or children online—ever again.”

I plunge the tip of the pen into his left eye. Cash shrieks, but this is just the beginning. When I go to pull it out, his eye tries to come with it, and I’m left with having to touch the slimy ball. Wincing at the contact, I do the same to his other eye. I want to stab them both repeatedly, as if I haven’t already gotten my point across, but the pen is too thick and keeps trying to take the eyeballs with it.

When I was a child, I thought there was something wrong with me. I didn’t want Cash to touch me, but when I saw him looking at other children, it made me feel inadequate somehow. The attention he gave me was the only time I felt like I was enough.

My mother wouldn’t give me the time of day if we were the last two people on Earth. And although Cash’s actions disgusted me and made me feel repulsed by myself every time I looked in the mirror, it was hard not to equate his touch to something more meaningful.

Cash’s eyes are barely hanging on by the tissues still connecting them. He flails around on the bed, as sobs rack his body. I almost feel bad for him until I remember why I’m doing this in the first place. The Reaper only asked me to cough up his soul, not torture him. But what good is death if he doesn’t learn a lesson first?

I relinquish the stabbing and continue my speech.

“You don’t know that I heard all the shit you and my mother said about me—that I would sit outside your bedroom door and listen to the two of you hate on me. I attempted suicide many times, thanks to you guys.”

I retrieve the scissors from my pocket.

“Congratulations, dickheads. Y’all were my first bullies.”

I say, before I grab Cash by his left earlobe and begin mutilating his ear. It takes all my strength to cut through the cartilage, but eventually I do, and I toss the chunk of flesh at my mother. That was so much harder than how the movies make it look. She throws her hands in the air and shrieks.

“Who’s stupid now?” I laugh maniacally.

She whimpers as she shakes like a leaf. She never looks at me, she just stares down at the floor. My mother is pathetic. Her sunken blue eyes are so dark now that they essentially look gray. Her long, curly hair sits in a messy bun, the red strands looking like a rat’s nest on the top of her head.

She’s thin—too thin. She always did care more about her weight than her actual health. If I said I was going to go on a diet and lose weight, then so was she. It was a constant competition of how she could best me in every way.

I go back to ignoring her and reach for the other ear. It occurs to me that I’ve been doing this whole thing unassisted, and I look around the room, once more, for Attie. He stands in the corner of the room, arms crossed over his broad and muscular chest. Crossing his legs, he leans against the wall and begins pushing off it as we lock eyes.

I flash him a look, expressing that I’ve got this, and he tips his chin down at me as if giving me permission to proceed, and I copy the gesture in acknowledgment. I lean over Cash, my torso pressing into him, as I reach for the other ear and begin chopping at it. He thrashes beneath me, and as he shakes his head frantically, he knocks his eyes loose, and they fall to the sides of his face. Grimacing, I gag a little and finish cutting and removing his other ear before stuffing it into the mouth of dead Kristine.

Cash’s screams die down as his body goes into shock and he pales as he passes out from all the adrenaline. I stand up and adjust myself. I’ve officially stripped Cash of all his senses, besides smell, and I’m proud to be the one to say that I did that to him. After everything he put me through, this is nothing in comparison. He’s lucky his dick is still intact—it won’t be for much longer.

I’m exhausted, but not in the way you’d think. What I’ve done has been emotionally and mentally taxing, and as an autistic individual, I’m spent. It’s going to take weeks to recover. I collect myself and head over to Attie. As I get closer, he pushes off the wall and opens his arms up as I go straight for a hug. I need him—his love, his comfort, his reassurance, his support… all of him.

He rests his chin on the top of my head as we sway gently side-to-side. Melting into his chest, I think about how I couldn’t have done this without him. Before Attie, I was weak, scared, lost, and hopeless. After Attie, I will never be the same.

CHAPTER 43