Thorns

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chaos.

I could feel it everywhere.

Calling to me.

Roping me into its warm, familiar arms, cradling my body, stroking my hair, holding my hand like the mother I'd never had.

It knew that with me it had a home, and that with it I had mine.

We needed each other.

I smiled to myself, the wild grin plastered across my lips as unhinged as the forest burning inside my mind. And if it was my mind that was consumed by the roaring flames, then my heart was as good as drenched in gasoline. Every member of the King's court believed that they were fooling one another. I could see it within the slight upturn of their lips, and the sheaths of nothingness covering their eyes like colored contact lenses. But I could feel how out of control they all really felt, it was nearly impossible to ignore as it buzzed around my head. I hadn't felt a chaos this dense since Salem first killed his parents, and it was beginning to drown my brain in the most pleasurable way possible.

It was like huffing paint.

It was addicting.

It was...

Distracting me from the task at hand.

I cleared my throat, "Ivan won't be attending. He's appointed me to sit in his place. Any questions?" I asked, my eyes quickly scanning over the people sitting around the marble table, "Perfect!  Now, where should be begin? I'm thinking we start by addressing the elephant in the room, yes?" All eyes focused on me, and I had to fight to keep the contentment from my gaze. I loved when they gave me their attention, because I loved feeling like they were just wrapping power up in little gift boxes and giving it to me because I deserved it.

Another thing I was addicted to, or so it seemed. Power, attention, chaos, all of it I found myself craving. Of course, that was all life was though, cycling through addiction after addiction after addiction, both unable and unwilling to stop because the addictions give you purpose. When you become addicted to pain, your purpose is to hurt yourself, when you become addicted to alcohol, your purpose is to drink, and when you become addicted to power, your purpose is to chase it.

Chase it until your feet blister and the air rubs your lungs raw, until the starvation starts eating away your sanity, and the headaches thump so hard that the pain nearly blinds you.

Everyone would always be addicted to something, and that was the truth, regardless of how many people chose to overlook it. And so, whether they realized it or not, they all had an addiction, and eventually it would destroy them. And then they'd find something new to become addicted to and the cycle would just start all over again.

The people in the King's Court were all addicted to creating order and feeling in control. It's what they craved. It's what they needed. And when they didn't have that, they fell apart, but they couldn't lose control of themselves, because that was the last thing they had control over.

But I knew better than to believe their facade. I was smarter than that. I was smarter than the pairs of eyes staring at me, waiting intently for me to speak. Some of them, it seemed, were genuinely curious in regards to what I would say, but the majority of them looked at me like they were waiting for me to say something stupid and make a complete fool of myself.

Either way, I was the center of their attention, I was the voice they were all about to listen to, and in that they'd given me power over them.

I snorted, flaring my nostrils as I scanned over the room, visibly unimpressed with my audience, "In case any of you have forgotten," I began, my words stentorian as they reverberated through the room, "I'm a Dynakinetic. I assume you all are well aware of what that entails, and if you aren't, I recommend reconsidering your position as a person of the court. Now, that aside, I wanted to address something I happened to notice when I sat down with you all! It seems that you all made the very unfortunate decision to appear to be calm and collected-almost like you want to look like you're downplaying the situation at hand for reason's far too selfish for me to be able to understand. Yet, as far as I can tell, you might as well be running around and screaming like a bunch of scared, wild animals." I snickered, watching a few of their faces immediately contort into an expression I assumed was a mixture of both panic and disgust.