It Will Always Be A Game

07: Moestie

You saved me, I'll save you

My eyes land on the letter sitting on the table. I reach over and pick it up.

It was entirely covered in dried blood.

"You never ever failed to look beautiful, little lamb."

Who the fuck is mentally retarded enough to do this? I blink rapidly.

Sighing in frustration, I take my phone out. I click a picture of it for evidence. I should call the police but it's not an option for me.

What if I'm being threatened because they think I was involved? But Carl's men don't know about me. The police threatened me only because they suspected I was hiding him.

Which, I was.

But I wasn't arrested. I was only brought in as a suspect. Because they had no proof? No proof of Shane hiding at my house, but 'proof' of him murdering innocent people? How good can you be at fabricating evidence?

I frantically brush my hair. My head feels like it will explode from the relentless flood of questions. Moestie jumps up on my lap and starts biting on my wrist.

I pat the Scottish Fold's back affectionately. "My little wittle potato sack," I lift her in the air. I wouldn't have survived if she wasn't here. I wrap my arms around her neck and pepper her with kisses all over. She meows softly as I hug her tightly, perhaps a bit too much for her comfort. So incredibly grateful to have you by my side.

Walking through the streets of Brooklyn, my clothes clung to my body and my hair stuck to my face.
It was pouring.
It was well after midnight, there wasn't a single soul in sight.
The streets were shrouded in darkness.
Just like the shadows in my mind.
I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing.
The droplets of rain blend with my tears and I'm glad for it.
Even though there's no one around.
And no one can stop my tears from falling right now.
Not even you, papa.

Even after moving here, the incident hasn't stopped following me. Haunting me. It follows wherever I go, wherever I hide. No matter what I do.
I sob and clench my fists to keep my hands from trembling. Some cars pass by, the drivers looking at me and mumbling something. I keep walking. I'm in too much pain to pay attention to what they're saying.

After walking for what felt like hours, my legs had given out.

Goosebumps began to prickle all over my body as my eyes peered down the bridge, the darkness below looming ominously.

This is it.

The rain was pelting down hard as I stood firm on the railing. Visibility was almost nonexistent in this thick darkness. My heart was racing, threatening to explode from my rib cage.

I look up into the sky. Beads of water hit my face, trickling down my temples in a cascade.

This is it.

The past will not haunt me anymore. I don't have to walk down the streets and pretend everything's going to be okay. I don't have to pretend that I'm normal. That I'm okay. I no longer have to wake up and force myself to fit into a world that was never meant for me. I don't have to live a life where it's all play pretend.

I don't have to be reminded of what I did. Of the damage I've inflicted. I don't have to be a bad daughter anymore.

I don't have to live another day knowing I killed them.

This is it.

I shut my eyes. It's almost peaceful.

So painful yet so peaceful.