The Darkness That Consumes Us

Chapter 9

( I highly suggest listening to this song while reading or in general, Brent Faiyaz is fucking ✨amazing✨ also this is the first chapter of 2021, sorry for taking so long...My teachers apparently think giving us a hundred assignments and projects at once is a good way to start the year 🤚🙄)

Andrea

      The sound of wheels skidding on asphalt, the smell of burning petrol, and the excitement bubbling in the air surrounded me and assaulted my senses. I could feel my hands sweating, not in nervousness but rather a raging excitement. The euphoria coursing through my body so fast and with such force, I could feel it in my toes. 

      Normally, my senses would be sharper than a knife, my head would be clear yet full of only one thing, winning. Today though, my mind kept drifting off to what happened with Alex, how he thought he could boss me around. Fucking tame me. No one will fucking tame me. I'll show him what I can do. All my life has been spent having people underestimate me. They think just cause I have a vagina instead of a dick, that I'll crack under all the pressure.

     It doesn't matter whether or not you have a dick. No matter who you are or what you do, if it's just too much for you at one point. You crack. You buck under the pressure that's always laid on your shoulders, like a nagging constant reminder that you'll never truly be as carefree as you once were. The days filled with laughter and smiles, nights filled with warmth and safety all suddenly snatched away as if it was never there. As if it never mattered. And all you're left with is the fleeting memories of what once was, but will never be again.

     Having to live with the cold hard truth that you'll never have that again. And that, that's enough to make anyone shatter into a million pieces.

    We never admire the people who have the balls to stick around long after they're shattered and keep it together for everyone else. The people who try to be happy and fix everyone else despite desperately wanting someone to fix them instead. Those are the real fighters. Those who fight a silent battle to spare everyone else from the war and chaotic thoughts running rampant in their heads.

    With that thought in my head, I tune back into my own reality and take note that there are three cars in front of me.

    Oh, fuck no.

    Realizing that I'm now in fourth place because I was being a dumb bitch, I quickly snap out of it. Slowly putting more weight onto the accelerator, I pull up next to the car.

     I spare the driver on my left a glance, his dull brown eyes connect with mine for a split second and then he turns back to the front. As if just realizing he was no longer in front of the queen of racing, he looks back with wide eyes. His once confident smirk turns into a deep frown with indignation swirling in his eyes. His face turning pink, nostrils flaring, he looks like a constipated bull.

    And just to be a bitch, I wink at him and speed off. After that, it was just as easy to get past the other guy. Now I was in second place, I take notice of who currently holds first place.

     Romans bright red, admittedly fucking beautiful, flashy sports car is easy to spot in the dark street. That car probably costs more than my whole existence.

    Nearing a sharp right turn I gradually put my foot harder on the pedal. Just as he's about to turn, I cut him off quickly by lifting my foot slightly of the accelerator and then suddenly slamming it down all the way. My car goes over the sidewalk and I maneuver it so I won't hit a lamp post.

    To be a top racer like Rome, you definitely need to have fast reflexes. So, when I cut him off I was betting he would stop so we wouldn't crash. As I zoom past him, he looks at my retreating car with a dumbfounded look painted across his face. His full lips slightly parted in shock. His car now stopped mid-right turn.

    Suddenly, his brows furrows and determination floods his eyes. He starts the car and he comes towards me the fastest I've ever seen. I know that if I don't play this right, he'll get an advantage on me and win. Finally a fucking challenge.

     I have an idea, I purposefully let him gain on me as we're more than halfway through the race. To really sell it I furrow my brows and slight frown when he pulls up next to me. He shots me an arrogant smirk, completely unaware of what I have planned.

     Both now driving down the street at the speed of a bullet, neck, and neck I know I have to do it now. I move to the right and I know everyone is watching me intrigued, the security cameras on the street get hacked by one of Kais guys every race so everyone can see and get whipped so we never get caught.

     As the finish line enters my line of vision, I swerve my car and do a full 180. My car now facing Rome's off to my right as I quickly put it into reverse. If I thought Rome was shocked by my earlier stunt, I was wrong because the man looked like he was shitting his pants right about now. It was easy to spot the absolute horror and worry emanating from him. I simply smiled innocently, ramming my foot on the pedal as I let the euphoric feeling of victory wrap me in its arms. Seconds later, with Roman only slightly behind me I crossed the finish line.

    Winner.

    I stopped the car and let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding captive in my lungs. As I got out of the car, I let the fresh air reach my lungs and savor it by taking a deep breath. Well, as fresh of air as you can get in a place that stinks of smoke, petrol, alcohol, and desperation.

The feeling of winning has always been amazing. Addictive, even. The momentary content that flows through your body, asking it come alive with a sense of pride. But, there's always been something missing. Pride is a sin, after all.

Of course, winning is wonderful and amazing, and about every other damned word that has anything to do with good. And in that moment, that fleeting moment, you feel like you're on top of the world. But that's just it, it's fleeting. After you get off that high, and the euphoria drains from your body. What are you left with? A sinking feeling, the need to feel it again and again. Just like any other good drug, it fucks with you.

The pit in my stomach seemed to double in weight as my thoughts spiraled. I was so out of it barely paid any attention to the roaring of the crowd for my victory. I barely acknowledged the congratulatory smiles being thrown my way. Along with the shock and utter bewilderment in others. I barely noticed Alex could mg up, scolding me slightly, then hugging me and asking if I was okay. His mood swings give me whiplash, goddamn. I barely even acknowledged Rome coming up to congratulate me on the race, only managing a weak smile. Dark thoughts still festering and eating away at any positivity and hen that was once in my head.

The one thing I did notice, was when my brown eyes clashed with deep, rich hazel eyes, located several feet in front of me. Specks of light brown, green, and gold seem to have woven together perfectly to make this man's eyes. As I stared at Marco, a weird warm feeling spread through my chest. His brows furrowed in concern, and muscles straining against his t-shirt from having his arms crossed in front of him. I knew he saw my change in mood, which I definitely didn't appreciate considering no one should know about that. I realized that he could read me, better than anyone else at least since he was the only one who noticed.

     Even staring into his eyes, multiple thoughts running through my hard all at once. One was still strongest, the emptiness. Would I ever feel complete? Would anybody ever be able to fix me?

     As we had a silent stare off in the midst of all the commotion around us. I couldn't help but think.

     I probably won't ever be the same, I can't go back to that after everything. Maybe I can heal. And maybe the man in front of me can help. Maybe he's the beginning.

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