Sympathy for the Devil

26

Grief hits us in five stages.

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

I denied. I suffered through my anger. I bargained my fucking life without the realization. I faced the gray blinds of depression. I am at the phase of acceptance. Acceptance that my grief was a ploy. A plot. A means to an untimely end. The stages resulted in loss. A bitter metamorphosis. There is no great acceptance in that. Only harsh understanding.

Which is why I'm going to fuck up this abandoned teddy bear.

Bennett took me to Smash Mouth. It's a place where people pay to destroy objects of their choosing. I should have done this months ago. Breaking shit is better than talking about my bottled-up feelings. Breaking shit ultimately gives me power I never felt I had before.

I grabbed the sledgehammer from the shelf and mutilated the eyes on this brown stuffed with love, Build-a-Bear. I destroyed every last fiber of stuffing as I let loose a warrior cry.

"Better than dinner?" Bennett stood in the corner of the break room.

"Destroying objects is oddly therapeutic." I threw a light bulb in the air and smashed it as the glass turned into crystals that rained over the floor.

"Talking has the same effect." Bennett remained in the corner. He didn't want to lose an eye. Smart.

I tore off my goggles and threw them at the ground in haste. "Talk about how my mom blew me off? Faked her death? Led me to my demise? Those damning instances are better left stored in the shell of my mind. Talking won't cure everything. It leads to thinking. It leads to rash actions. I'm going out of my mind thinking with my heart and not my head. I'm focusing on staying here when my mind wants to leave. Teleportation is about controlling your desire to leave a situation before it gets worse. Before it breaks our cowardice."

"Funny, coward isn't a term I would use to describe you. Brave," His mouth quirked up slightly. "That's the word I would use. Brave people are the antonyms of cowards. You can't be both."

My hand buzzed. I felt the yearning to go elsewhere. I combatted my brain to stay. I stayed for once while I clenched my fist until the buzzing dissipated.

Bennett unraveled two Caprese paninis and salt and vinegar chip bags on a paper towel. We picked them up from Caffé Eataly before heading to the break room.

"I know that you don't do birthdays, but the rule is that you get older, you get a gift. Them's the rules. Cake too. For a wish."

I raised a brow as Bennett revealed two boxes wrapped in light purple packaging. He also revealed a slice of vanilla cake with strawberries and whipped cream with a single candle.

"I can't. I didn't get older. Not really. I'm undeserving of celebration. I fail to see the point."

"We did think about this. Killian and I thought that you deserve a sense of normalcy. These gifts are to make everything more manageable. He didn't want to be here because he has an aversion to all things birthday. He still thought you should have this." Bennett pushed the first gift towards me as it slid against the hardwood floor.

"I'll open it if you look away. I hate being the center of attention."

"Okay. That's fair." Bennett nodded as he turned away.

I opened the taped-up small box to reveal an indiscernible black box.

Jewelry?