Grayscale

Chapter Twenty-Two

He had come in uninvited, something akin to guns blazing at a whisper. Gabriel crept through my unfamiliar house as slowly and as quietly as he could, but I could hear him harshly whisper my name every now and again. He was trying to find me - and for good reason. It had now been ten minutes since he was supposed to pick me up, and when we'd last talked, I was frantic - I hadn't had the control that I now had.

Regardless, however, my arms were blanketed with fresh cuts, seeping blood onto my pink pants - I'd just had to wear them tonight - onto my Mickey Mouse comforter, onto my hardwood floor, onto everything. Everywhere I looked, there was crimson. To an outsider, I would seem a mess.

And I supposed I was. I'd just relapsed, after all.

But at least I felt powerful. At least I felt on top.

"Calypso, for fuck's sake, where are you?" He was getting closer, and I was nowhere near ready for him to see the Polaroids tacked to my door, obviously marking it as mine, and come busting in. I was covered in blood.

He just kept getting closer, though.

Tap tap tap.

Heels on hardwood hallway floor.

Now, I was beginning to regain that sense of franticness. "Shit," I hissed. I dropped the switchblade onto my comforter - what was a little more blood at this point? - and lunged across my room to my dirty clothes hamper, where the towel I had used when I showered earlier today was stowed. I didn't care what color it was or how bad this would probably stain it, but I had to try to clean this mess up, right now.

The towel was light blue - Reed's favorite, the color of the sky, and with that small reminder, my heart clenched a little bit. I tried to shut his memory out, to block it, but it came rushing back. "Favorite color?" I had blurted. We were playing twenty questions that day, the day we met. He was broken, but he was there, and he was smiling. "The sky - that shade of blue. I get that you'venever seen it, but it's gorgeous, and once you can finally see the colors, you'll understand why I picked that."

I could see the colors now, and I understood. I got it. It was pretty. And it made me want to carve his name into my arms with my switchblade, create a permanent reminder of everything I had destroyed, of the life that my choices had robbed him of. It made me wish that I could have switched places with Madeline that day, so that he could have the life that he deserved, so that he could enjoy the color of the sky in the way that only he could. It made me so god damn sad.

Stupid fucking towel.

I threw it to the floor and started mopping up the blood as best I could, and I had this quick, fleeting thought that this was what it was always going to be like now. I would just keep ruining the things he loved, I would keep destroying everything. I would stain his favorite color with my crimson. I would ruin his memory with my grief.

With each swipe of the towel and click click of heel on hardwood floor though, the thought went further and further from my mind. I had more pressing issues. I had to fix this. I had to get it -

Softly, knock, knock. "Calypso?"

"No!" I cried. "I'm not - I changed my mind. I'm fine. No worries."

I could hear him pause outside my door, could practically picture his hand hovering over my doorknob, trying to decide if it was appropriate for him to invade my space right now. "Too late, sweetheart. I've got worries," he finally said, and he quietly pushed my door open. I was cursing myself for not locking it, but it was too late, and he was seeing everything, and suddenly, I couldn't hide it. I couldn't hide what I'd done anymore.