His Sick Obsessions

Chapter Fourty Eight: Danny

That felt both really good and really bad at the same time. It made adrenaline pump through me but I couldn't help but feel for Serena. I have to keep telling myself that I meant those things, at least most of them. I didn't think she was completely crazy and she probably could help someone. She just annoyed me so much sometimes; she's the living definition of history repeats.

I sought out Meme, she was just sitting on the couch playing with a piece of braided hair. She was so beautiful, even with the bags under her eyes. From where I was I could see one of the cuts on her wrist, it made me so angry that I couldn't have saved her from herself. She didn't deserve those scars. They will never happen again, I will make this house perfect. I will give her all of her wants and needs, that is no problem. I sat down next to her and admired her more. Blake must of been waiting for me to come to the living room because he left after that.

"What's on your mind?" I asked tilting my head.

"Nothing really, just..." She stopped herself.

"Just what?" I asked softly, my heart racing dying down.

She sighed before quietly saying, "I just wish I could of talked with Serena longer, I mean, I was with you all night".

"...I know, she was just busy today. You will get to talk, I promise" I said rubbing the back of her hand.

"Good" she said simply withdrawing her hand.

My phone buzzed and I checked it quickly. James wanted to know where Serena was, even though we talked through code I knew that one was coming. Clarifying things I sent Dalton down to the basement.

"Meme, if you want or need anything I will get it for you" I told her.

"The only things I want are the things you can't give me" She said looking down at her wrists.

"I'm sorry" I breathed.

"Don't be. Stop being sorry for things you don't try to change, it's not worth it" She shook her head.

"I am trying" I insisted.

"Sure you are" She folded her arms.

Meme made me feel every emotion in the times I felt none. Right now I felt small and hopeless. I guess that's why I feel so hard for her, I lack emotion sometimes. I can shoot into a crowd and the only thing I'd feel would be boredom. From the media I know that's wrong, I'm supposed to feel guilt or sadness or something.

"Please," I begged sincerely "you mean the world to me. This is how I'm trying, I know you don't like it but bear with it. I love you".

She breathed, rubbing her wrist, and contemplated things. "I don't really have much of a choice, but okay. I guess you're forgiven since you won't meet me halfway. I just want to sleep alone tonight" She negotiated.

"Okay, that's fine. Dinner won't be ready for a few hours, do you need a snack or anything like that?" I asked.

"No, I'm okay" She replied.

I couldn't help but dig a little more. "Meme," I started as our eyes met like hands. "Am I a bad person?" I found myself asking.

I know I'm not a saint but I wanted to know what she thought. Sometimes I felt like my life revived around what she thought of me and anger.

She hesitated, stumbling in her first words, "No" she finally attributed.

"No?" I questioned, just wanting to know what her reasoning is.

"I wouldn't say you're a bad person. I would say you're confused and you make bad choices that you should know better about" She clarified, before adding, "But I can't say you're a good person, either. That all depends on you".

I nodded kind of disappointed, but that's the final ruling.