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Wilder
What,exactly, are you made of?
Where are you going?
What are you doing?
Who are you going to be?
“A Thorn.That’s all I’ve ever been. All I’ll ever be.”
What are you made of?
“Razor sharp edges.
Jagged points.”
Where are you going?
“The gates of hell.
The edges of the world.
Purgatory, limbo.
Everywhere in between.”
What are you doing?
“Whatever is necessary.
The worst of it all.
Whatever it takes.”
Who areyou going to be?
“A Thorn. That’s all I’ve ever been. All I’ll ever be.”
In that case…wake the fuck up.
My ears were ringing.
That was the first of my senses to come back, albeit in the worst possible way. My eyes popped open, and I took in the destroyed living room around me as I pulled myself up from the ground.
The package delivery.
It hadn’t struck me as suspicious before – when May opened the door, it was the first thing out of her mouth.
“Oh, you’re not the mailman, are you?”she’d said, giving me a wide smile. “I got a text about a package drop off, so I thought… you don’t care about that at all, do you? How can I help you?”
She was gone.
The rose I’d been going back and forth with before was conspicuously absent from the disaster-struck living room, and my gaze immediately went to the stairs. Pulling myself to my feet, I did a quick mental inventory of any possible injuries.
Besides a knot on my head, I was fine.
I sprinted up the stairs, looking for the rose, and for May and her daughter, with no luck. I searched every room and found no one there, prompting me to check my watch to see how damn long I was out.
