Little Dark One

60 - demons

Tommy

I woke up slumped against the dining room door frame, surrounded by puddles of blood-red wine and a million shards of glass. I groaned as the pulse of a hangover promised eternal suffering. I could still feel the lasting effects of the liquor in my system, which only confirmed the fact that my hangover was bound to get worse the more I sobered up.

I filtered through the fuzzy memories of the worst day of my life, the day I suffered once a year since I was seven. I surveyed the destruction around me, trying and failing to remember causing any of it.

I pushed myself up off the floor and tugged my damp shirt off my body, the material was soaked in wine and whiskey. I rarely drank more than a glass or two, I preferred my mind clear and my senses sharp, but my birthday was a rare exception. 

Once a year, I was no match for the demons that shattered through my carefully constructed walls to flood me with vivid images of the violent sins I've committed.

I stumbled into the kitchen in search of water, my mouth felt like I swallowed tons of cotton. I chugged two full glasses and leaned against the kitchen counter with my head hung in my hands. I tried to scrub the lingering blur from my eyes as my mind worked on resetting.

I was so wrapped up with Keira the other night I had forgotten my birthday entirely. Until I woke early the next morning tangled in her bare body and recognized the date on my phone. I carefully unwrapped myself from her solace and retreated into the deepest level of the basement, where it was safe to let my demons consume me without fear of harming my love.

If anyone would have been able to pull me out of my past and back into the land of the living, it would have been Keira. But I hadn't found the courage to open up to her about that dark shard of my past yet. I should have. I found myself wishing I would have as I let myself loose on every punching bag–and wall–I could find.

I was afraid. I didn't want to scare her, I didn't want to remind her what a monster I truly am. We've been so happy in our private little bubble of love lately, I didn't want to tarnish that. I was afraid I would hurt her, or worse, accidentally kill her.

My demons blinded me to the point where I gave them free rein while I retreated into the dark until they'd tormented me enough. Or until I found the strength to rebuild my walls or drink myself numb, whichever came first.

I should have made sure Blaze was here to watch over her, I should have done a lot of things. Endless regret promised to haunt me for eternity, and I deserved nothing less. 

I tried to recall anything after the basement, but everything was black, completely and utterly dark. Until flashes of hazy memories began to resurface. Images of Keira reaching out to me...begging...crying...

My breath hitched and my heart cracked as I pushed my liquor-induced brain to remember the details. Her shattered expression flashed across my mind, her fractured sobs as she told me she loved me and I... I ruined her. I walked away. Oh god. No, no, no, no, no.

"Fuck!" I roared, my gravelly voice echoing throughout the empty kitchen.

I ran through the house, desperate to find her and beg for her forgiveness. I would sit on my knees before her for the rest of our lives if it meant she would eventually forgive me. She had to forgive me. I can't live without her. Somewhere along the way she became the only reason I chose to continue living at all. I would beg for her forgiveness or die trying. 

I've never begged a soul in my entire life, but I would do just about anything to fix the destruction I unintentionally caused. 

I ran up the stairs and swore as I failed to enter the correct passcode to our secure wing for the third time. My whole body was vibrating, my fingers shaking so hard I could barely press the right buttons.