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On my way out, I don’t dare look into her eyes. The sound of her sobs is already eating at my resolve. What I might see in that gaze would haunt me for the remainder of my days. Better hurt her emotionally than choke the life out of her.
Until I figure out how to master my demons, Mae needs to be out of the picture. I won’t repeat Father’s mistake. I won’t kill the only woman who meant something to me because I wanted the easy way out.
It was easy killing targets and pretending that the thrill was everything I needed. Since I had Mae and knew what real thrill tasted like, I’ll do everything in my might to have it again.
I’ll find a way.
Until then, Mae needs to go.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mae
It hurts.
My breaths. The strangling of my sobs.
It aches.
Being here. Loving Aaron. Fighting a losing war.
It’s all so damn painful.
No more tears come out. I’ve cried until I can no longer shed them.
The little warmth that once illuminated my path is no longer shining. Whatever hope dissipated.
I always thought perseverance can get me anywhere. As long as I want to do something, I’ll work hard to achieve it.
That belief crumbled with Aaron.
For the first time, I face an unmoving wall. I tried everything. I begged, cried, offered my heart and body. But nothing I did or said made Aaron challenge the darkness and evil implemented in him. Maybe it’s easier for Aaron to live this way. Perhaps I was hurting him all along by pushing him. It must be hard to erase something that blends with his spirit and flows in his blood.
Aaron’s way to cope with his demons is to kill. Not doing so is murdering him. Slowly. Painfully. Yet, killing still made him dive deeper into a one-way road of madness.
Yesterday. Today. The other day in the art studio. He looked completely lost as if an unknown entity snatched his soul and left him barren. It’s much worse than the first day he brought me here. At least back then, he was composed and confident of himself.
At least back then I didn’t love him.
I can’t watch him succumb to his dark end. I’m not Eva. I won’t be able to take it for years. It’ll eat away at me to see him drown and not pull him to the shore. Not that he wants my help.
My lips tremble, fresh tears sting my eyes. Is my existence that much of a torture for him?
With heavy legs, I stroll to the bathroom. It smells like Aaron; entangled, enchanting, and far. He’s so far away. I can’t reach him no matter how much I try. It’s clear that he’s fighting the urge to murder me. He’ll end up killing me then killing himself. We’ll be an incarnation of his parents.
More tears cascade down my cheeks. It’s useless. Fighting is useless.
My gaze darts to the mirror. The person who stares back is a little familiar. A ghost that resembles me. Her eyes are hollow, lifeless. This morning’s flushed cheeks are replaced by an unearthly paleness.
Looking at the ghost of myself hurts.
God. Why does it hurt this much?
My fist swings and connects with the mirror. The ghost disappears when the glass smashes to pieces with a clashing sound.
Something is snatched from inside my body and lifts above me as if I’m jerked outside of the mirror. My head feels lighter, lighter still.
Maybe the ghost is taking over.
