BOOK THREE - promised series
Espheros is inhabited by more than just the human species. Shifters and Immortals walk the earth amongst them, hiding in the shadows.
There are some humans, however, who are very much aware of what moves through the dar...
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Kendra nearly walked into me but managed to avoid a crash by stepping aside in the right moment. Looking up from previously being concentrated on her palms, slight shock mirrored in her brown irises as they grew larger once she realised that I was right in front of her.
Our friendship had always been so effortlessly light. The weight now that hovered between us like a gas about to suffocate me was nearly unbearable. I half expected Kendra to leave without saying a word, but it seemed like she was waiting for me to make the first step. I figured now was as good a chance as any to do just that.
"I never meant to hurt you, Kendra." I wasn't sure if that was a good start, but I knew it was the truth. It had never been my intention to hurt her feelings, but I understood that that was what I had done, regardless.
Kendra nodded without responding verbally.
"I know that you care about me, more than you care about a lot of people. And I know that it's hard for you not to know when something is going on, though you're perfectly aware that something's amiss. You hate it because you can't help, and that's ultimately the only thing that you ever want. You've got so much compassion inside your soul that it can hurt you, because there are so many people out there that aren't like that. And although it's your strongest quality, it's also the one that makes life hard sometimes."
Kendra's eyes became watery, and I could feel how my words were impacting her.
"Ironically enough, I don't have that amount of compassion. I can feel what other's feel, but I don't feel it the way you do. You truly hurt when someone else is in pain. You don't need a gift to feel it, you just do. It's because you care so much. And since I hurt for people that I don't even know, compassion is what will kill me if I'd have as much of it as you did. So, I build up walls." I lowered my voice after taking a deep breath.
"I build up walls because I can't bear feeling someone else's hot anger boil my blood. I don't want to shed tears when foreign pain slips into me. I hate feeling afraid when it's not me that's scared of the dark. I don't want to laugh when someone else is happy, but I'm dying inside."
I held back my own tears and instead forced myself to continue.
"I avoided feeling emotions altogether, or at least, I spent a great deal of time and strength on trying to. It didn't do me any good", I continued, thinking back to my bloody nose, the loss of sight, the outbursts.
"I'm trying to deal with my gift by embracing it. It's hard, because my core is like a magnet, drawing everything in, and it's hard not to let emotions take away my control."
I reminded myself that I needed to get to the point. Kendra silently looked at me, not saying anything, only listening. Her heartbeat was steady and she seemed unfazed on the outside.
"What I'm trying to say is that I haven't really figured out what works, what can put my mind in a state of ease and calm everything down inside that I'm in control and okay with who I am. All I know is that right now, I don't know where I belong and I don't know what I feel half of the time, which is why I can't tell you. I suck everything in. Everything bad that has happened, I just suck it in and it stays there and makes my soul rot with a darkness that just spreads because I don't know who I'm supposed to be. I don't know if I'm supposed to be in control, or if I'm supposed to be as unhinged as I am. I don't know how to deal with myself, so how am I going to even start thinking about how to deal with Reagan? Or with the war that we'll probably be a part of? With his mother? With everything the council hid from us and still haunts me? Holden's betrayal? Reece's utter disappointment in me? Or Emmet, being alone in so much because I'm such a mess and Reece has so many responsibilities? How am I supposed to deal with all of that and not fall apart? Who's going to pick up the pieces when I finally blow up? Why can't I pick myself up, get a grip and not let my mother's face haunt me all the time? Why does my soul believe that I'm not good enough when every cell in my body is trying to be?"
