The Campus Killings {#LGBTQ #HORROR #FRIGHT}

Chapter Twenty Six

Eilidh's breath hitched with soft, barely stifled sobs as she sorted through the photographs before her — her brother's harsh words still hung on her like an anchor, her chest aching from the pure and utter heartbreak she felt.

He had called her dangerous.

Her brother. Her twin.

One of the first faces she had ever seen in the world, who had been with her in the womb, the one person who had sought to protect her, who she had attempted to protect in return.

Her spirit ached with a despondent loneliness and she wondered where it went wrong. If they had never met Hurricane Laura, perhaps they would've been happy?  If she'd have never went to the college, if Raleigh hadn't have found her that night, would the pain within her have ceased?

Hot, fat tears scored down her cheeks, leaving behind traces of black eyeliner which also was also smudged over her hands from fruitless attempts to wipe her face.

Long ago, she would've said she wasn't a crier; she was too stoic and sarcastic and cool to be affected by the world, but in that moment, she felt like she had been utterly hollowed out, like her very soul had been scooped out of her body and shredded to pieces. 

What remained within the husk that remained was devoid of warmth, of hope and of happiness — a sad, sorry withered shell.

Eilidh wanted so hard to hate Brody, wanted to curse his name like she did so easily with Mali and Laura, but despite herself, she still cared about him, still loved him even though he'd return so easily to hanging around someone who had ruined her, had made her want to disappear from the world.    She loved him so much that she would've died for him, had went to extreme lengths to protect him.   It was obvious now that he didn't love her in return, now only seeing his twin sister as an enemy, the way everyone else did.

Wistfully, she looked at the photograph from Tenerife once again — she, her brother and Raleigh, with Maxwell way back in England and not in their thoughts. It was probably the last time she was truly happy and in that moment, never felt so far away.

Her gaze wandered to her now-exposed wrists — ugly scars marred the pale skin, a permanent reminder of what she'd failed to do and yet, she couldn't be mad at Raleigh for saving her that night, begging her to live, holding her as she sobbed and refused to go to hospital and defending her as Brody had painfully admonished her as he patched up her wounds.

Raleigh always tried to be the mediator, to fix things and it was what made her fall in love with him when she was younger, back when she was small and loveable — Raleigh had made her laugh, had tried to include her even when it was obvious she didn't fit and had been the first person she'd come out to.   Raleigh, above everything, was kind.

Eilidh was done with kindness.  Kindness got her nowhere except for hurt — she had to be pragmatic, calculated, cold.

Part of her wanted to try again, to slash her wrists and let it all be over with, wondering if anyone would even bother to save her this time.   In the end, however, it all seemed pointless.

How, even after his betrayal, could she do such a thing to her own twin?  On the other hand, she knew she couldn't let everyone win, couldn't let them get the better of her even if all seemed lost.

Either way, she knew she couldn't stay there, letting her eyes wander across the photographs one final time — through these pictures, she had captured her friends, her family and her worst enemies.

Her eyes held onto one, of Laura kissing someone who definitely wasn't her brother — it was how she had broken the news to him on that day.

Eilidh had captured it as she was wandering through the corridors, noticing Laura leaving a supply closet, dishevelled and leaning back to kiss someone inside.