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It was not.
It is not.
We are bound together, him and I. Bound by lust and blood. Bound by forces we do not even understand, cravings most people cannot fathom. Bound by fear and pain. Bound by death.
Our story started a decade ago and fate threw us back in each other's path for a reason. He was right—I am his. Another reason I fled is because I wondered if the lack of fear in my song would make him tire of me. I feared that his and Adrien's monsters were cut from the same cloth and he would eventually dispose of me, just as Adrien did with the ones before. Yet I failed to listen to all the words he spoke to me. Fear was the only emotion he could truly feel in other people... until me.
Yet alongside the revelation concerning my feelings, something else brewed. Regret. Anger. Madness. Vengeance. Blood lust.
Niklas craved to break me open, he wanted to see me burn and wanted to be the one to light the fire and push me into the flames. I thought it was for destruction's sake, but rebirth was the purpose. A cleansing of my old soul, the birth of my hidden one. He wanted me to embrace my demons, accept the fact that I am like him, that I crave the bloodshed, the taste of fear, the smell of death. My mother’s words ringing in my ears were the only thing holding me back. My disgust for that foul creature held me in place. The horrifying idea that my demons mirror hers. This has haunted me my entire life, even before I sunk a knife in her flesh.
The regret I hold towards leaving the mountain before I took my vengeance on Adrien is what made me understand that the only things that haunt me are ghosts of my own creation. My inability to see that my own insecurities, the self-doubt, is the only thing making me believe that I could be my mother.
Most people live with that gnawingwhat ifquestion and I do too now. It is what made me realize I am a coward. What if I succumb to my demons on that mountain? What if I cut Adrien open and spill his guts at my feet? What if I slit his throat? What if burn him? What if I stop thinking I will become my mother and give my soul the gift of death that it oh so craves?
I know now that I am not her. I hate her enough not to be her. I’m done. Done holding back, done living by the rules of a world I do not belong to.
I step out of the shower, wrap my head in a towel and wipe my body with another before I cover myself with it. By the time I finish drying my hair it is late, past midnight and after the day I had, planning and organizing my next steps, all I want is sleep. I need all the energy I can get for what awaits me tomorrow.
I walk through the dark living room, into the bedroom lit only by moonlight and change into the pajamas I left on the bed. I down half the bottle of water sitting on my bedside table and crawl into bed under the covers.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, yet the world around me feels strange, my vision blurred and the air is heavy. I try to blink a few times to focus my vision, yet my eyelids are not cooperating. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My body bursts into goosebumps. A burning shiver spreads from my spine all over my body. A sharp breath catches in my throat and I am all too aware of the reason why.
The last thing I saw before sleep involuntarily took me was a monster grinning at me, yet I did not know whether it was a dream or reality.
Do not let this be a dream…
