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“Oh, so the pretty boy has some bark tonight. Care to put that attitude to good use?” I was angry, there's no doubt about that, but unfortunately for Tristan, I was not suicidal.
There's also the fun fact that I didn’t feel like having my nose busted off my face tonight, or having every rib on my left side bruised beyond repair. In fact, knowing Tristan, I would probably be buried six feet under before I even got the chance to remind him of who I was.
It was the darkness.
At least that’s what Jayson and I had jokingly started calling it a few years ago. Once Tristan let the darkness in it was bloody hard to pull him out of it. The clouds sunk so far into his skin his demons had no choice but to dig their claws in.
To tear him apart.
Sometimes, he would disappear for weeks, months, always coming back bloodied and bruised. He would return in pieces, like parts of him had died on the inside. There was also the fact that he wouldn’t speak. Not a single world. Only after Jayson and I got tired of his silence would he finally cave.
But I had my own shit to work through tonight, and if that made me be a shitty friend then Tristan could blame the little Goldie Locks who ate his porridge.
I cursed,
Fuck it was hard not to think about her.
It had only been two days since I last saw her and she still haunted my dreams. Safe to say I was getting tired of her face real quick. Of her innocent blond hair. Of her fucking blue eyes always staring me down.
My hands started to shake uncontrollably now, and I raked them savagely through my dark hair in a vain effort to control myself. Pulling on the ends until I felt the hair break. If I didn’t act now, it was going to overcome me. Take me down until I had no semblance of control left.
Shoving Tristan to the side, I made my way towards the center of the room, towards the painted wooden floorboards. The bystanders were screaming their lungs out at two very big men, both of them fighting with reckless abandon, the two of them going at it like their life depended on it.
Blood smears the white painted floor. The white square represents the boundaries. The very boundaries I painted all those years ago. A method to keep people in check. To give the illusion of control.
Not stopping to think, I pushed through the crowd until I was standing in the middle of the two fighters. The crowd either didn’t notice who I was, or they did and were too intrigued to loosen their tongues.
Good, let them watch, I thought brutally before winding my fist behind my back and smashing it into the beefy man before me. The sound of flesh against flesh making me feel like I could breathe again.
Stumbling out of shock, the man before me wasted no time hurdling a fist towards my stomach. Ducking, I came around to wrap my legs around his lower half, dragging him down until he lost balance and toppled to the floor. I got up just in time for man number two to clock his fist against my jaw, and for a second, I saw stars.
Fuck. Yes.
I smiled, blood staining my teeth red. The monster was out to play, and I let it consume me. Let it turn my heart to ice until I felt nothing. Until I saw nothing but red.
We went on for hours, minutes, seconds, the monster inside me had no sense of time. There was only rage. Hot and cold and bitterly controlling as I threw punch after punch.
But best of all was that I felt absolutely nothing as the two men beat me. Tore me apart. I knew this was a losing fight. Distantly, I was aware that my right eye must have swollen up because I could only see shapes out of my left.
I was losing.
But the monster inside me didn't care. Didn't stop. And I realized distantly that I didn't want it to.
Vaguely, underneath my red haze, I saw a figure approaching. They were taller than the rest of the crowd. Also, they were screaming.
Loudly.
How fucking lovely.
Distracted by the suicidal idiot, I ducked the pudgy man's blow too late, and his fist collided with my cheek. And then I was on the ground.
Funny, I don't remember falling.
But at this point, it didn't matter. After all, the monster had become me. I was the monster and the monster was me. My heart was a hollow shell. A block of ice. And I felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
In fact, I might have even laughed as the second man came beside me and kicked me in the ribs, his foot pulling backwards for another go.
