The Marriage Swap || ON HOLD TILL SEPTEMBER

12 | 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

Everyone has a made-up name here. I suppose it is befitting since all of these pathetic people claim to be part of a secret society. I remember each of their names. It's noted down one below the another and engraved in my mind, just like how a grim reaper keeps a list of names of the people who's soul he is to claim.

Pugsley, he's the one who started the rape on Sienna, he's the one who threw acid on Kai's face. Looking at the disgusting man makes me want to burn him alive, make him suffer. Which is why, I stole the acid container from the store room when they made me and Kai scrub the place. Kai was bleeding from his melted skin, creating more of a mess than cleaning. I kept telling him to stop, that I'll do the work. But he never listens. He never lets anyone take his burdens when he takes all of ours.

It solidified my decision. When one of them took me and Kai to clean Pugsley's toilet, without Kai noticing, I discreetly mixed the acid into the ear-drop solution Pugsley keeps putting into his waxed ear. His scream of rage and pain was music to my ears when his undermen put only a singly ear-drop into his ears.

So long, they've made us scream, it's only fair they do the screaming now.

~ from the journal entries of Daisy.

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☘︎ Eᴠᴇ Kᴀᴠɪɴsᴋʏ ☘︎

Sometimes, I feel like a developing butterfly. Add a layer, you'll see another insect. Peel a layer, you'll see another. The caterpillar, the cocoon, the fully grown butterfly—they're all parts of me, evolving as per the cycle.

But unlike a real butterfly, I don't stick to a single form at a time. I switch between them. It's awfully similar to a person with switch personality dissorder. One moment, I'm Eve the somewhat normal girl, the next I'm Daisy the psychopath. When I'm confronted by the ghosts of my past, it triggers the dark side in me and I retreat into the cocoon where no emotion, no morals exist anymore.

"Daisy." Eyes glued on me in caution, sweat drips down Pugsley's temples, fear displaying clear on his ashen expression. His back collides with the door in a hurried escape effort. He fumbles with the knob, his hands shaking.

Index finger twirling a strand of reddish hair around it, a dark smile curves my lips. Canting my head sideways, my voice is whisper-soft, "Why are you so afraid? I didn't even do anything to you." I eye his silhouette from the greasy hair to the shiny tips of his shoes, adding thoughtfully, "Yet."

"The secret society knows all about you, bitch! They'll find you! They'll kill you! You'll pay twice as brutally for the eight people you've murdered! I'll tell them how you look now! They'll peel your skin like they did before!" He yells between frantic movements, yanking at the door knob with a strength I've seen him use on Sienna, on many others who had the unfortunate tragedy to end up in that place.

"Will you?" I entertain his words, taking a step back and giving him false hope that I'm disturbed by the news. My lips turn upside-down in fake sadness. But then my smile widens, becomes crazed, "But you'd have to escape alive first to tell the tale, Pugsly. Don't you think?"

Remembering the lock, Pierce unlocks it but when the door doesn't open, he looks at me in alarm. I can't help being satisfied watching the flicker of hope vanish his eyes. He liked to watch the hope leave the eyes of the ones he tortured, didn't he? It's only fair he experienced his own game.

"What happened? The door isn't opening?" I place a hand on my mouth in a mock gasp, "So unfortunate. Maybe it's locked from the outside? Maybe someone locked it? You never know, Pugsly, maybe you're meant to die today."