Wendy Darlin'

Chapter Thirteen - One for Him, One for Her

I press my body against the cool glass, my hands bloodied and raw from trying to smash my way out of the room. 

The sight of blood, red against my pale white skin, has turned my stomach, weakened my knees. I sit against the velvet lounger, bringing up bile. I shouldn't over react, but it's my fault, and Slightly shouldn't have to pay the price. 

I rest my head on the floor, my hair falling in stranded curtains, laced with grease and blood and vomit. I feel drained, completely empty. After so many days of acting like a lady, I'm not used to the sudden burst of action I've plunged myself into. I feel fragile, a prize possession to be gazed at but not taken out of its case. I feel all too young, and pathetic, and galling.

I haven't eaten in a while, so all my vomit consists of is water and phlegm. It is still a gruesome sight. 

Bethany is dead. 

And the ghost of her past hits me hard in the stomach like noise breaks a silence, screaming, tearing out my insides and I can't hold it in any longer. I choke and cry and vomit and let the tears flood me, hoping they will consume me. I wail like a child, kicking at the walls, throwing myself at the door, letting my fists bleed forever more. 

Everyone is leaving me. 

***

It is dark when I wake up. 

I am sprawled across the floor, my hair fanned out around me, a blanket shrewn loosely across my body. My limbs twinge in pain and I notice the tiny cuts all the way down them, from when I tried to smash the glass windows. I groan. 

"I couldn't do it."

I jump to my feet in shock and instantly regret it. My injuries scream in pain. Aiden sits at the desk, his forehead in his hands, shaking. 

I walk over to him with clumsy footing and rest a hand on his shoulder. He looks up at me, his eyes swimming with tears. 

"She had a sibling, didn't she?"

I nod. "Twins."

He shakes his head and looks down. "I only saw her in his eyes. I couldn't do that to her..."

My mind is spinning. "You could force her into bed, make her live through another horrible night against her will, but you couldn't chop off her brothers finger?!" Not that I want him to, but it seems odd. 

"They look too alike! I couldn't- I couldn't hurt her again-"

"You never seemed to care before!"

"I'm-I'm different!" He raises his fingers to his temple. "Up here! It's not the illness, it's not a disease, it's just me! I'm broken, okay? I'm not normal! I do things I don't mean then regret it straight after! I never lie! I'm a freak, a rotten freak!"

Silence pierces through the room. I blindly guide myself to a chair, my hands pressed to my forehead. This whole thing, this whole world, is completely broken, messed up to the core. 

"You won't understand. I couldn't hurt her anymore, not anymore." His tone is quieter and more gentle. 

And now, now I am most certain that Aiden was in fact in love with Bethany. 

He rests a hand on my shoulder but I don't budge, just feel his weight and warmth coursing through me. 

"I understand if you don't believe me. I understand if you want to kill me, but I promise you, I love her." And he sweeps away, clicking the door lock behind him. 

Through all this. Through Peter being terrified and crazed downstairs. Through Slightly remaining strong and keeping his dignity, all I can think is about Aiden and Bethany, Bethany and Aiden.