It Was Me, I Did It, Now Give Me The Knife.

•Serenity•

               I creep back into my room. I inhale deeply and choke. The air is stuffy. The faint smell of the weed that fills the basement had crept under the tiny slit my door made. I turn the light on and look at my surroundings.

               Hundreds of photographs filled the six by six walls. I found my hand tracing the faces of the people on the pictures.  

              Dil. Her warm brown eyes fixed on her husky pup.

          Sam. A wicked sparkle in his eyes as he played guitar.

       Alex. Pouncing on me. Her hair covering my face. Her eyes crossed.

               The memories flooded back. The dreams rushed towards me. The images began again. I couldn’t.

               I screamed.

           I screamed until my foster mother came.I screamed until my foster father and brother stormed up behind her. I screamed as she smuggled me with my pillow.

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            When I woke up, it was getting dark out. A whole day was almost gone and I had done nothing. I got dressed and walked to Sam’s.

             His mother didn’t notice as I walked in. I walked to her, kissed her on the forehead, and made my way upstairs. She didn’t react to my touch. Her bloodshot eyes planted on the corner of her rug. Her fragile thirty-four-year-old body shaking violently.

              She was hooked on something.

                I walk into Sam’s room. I walk in and lay my body on his bed. The tears slide down my face, landing on the bloodstained sheets.

                     No. You’ll see. You’ll know. Go away! Go away, Minikui! He didn’t love you! He lied to you. He loved Dil. You know he did. They don’t need your help. Just leave!

                   Stop. Stop it. Leave me alone. WHY DON’T YOU EVER LEAVE ME ALONE? 

                 She does that. She always does that. She tries to tell me I’m crazy. She tries to distract me. She thinks I’m an imbecile. She thinks I don’t know her secret.

                 She’s the crazy one. She thinks I’m her second personality. She has the audacity to believe that she’s the host.

                       I’m the host.

                     I will always be the host.

             My brother made sure I remembered that. He said momma liked her better. He said momma cried for her more than for me. He said momma wanted to get rid of me because of her. Serenity. Momma loved Serenity more than me. 

It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. I hate her. I hate her. I love her and she’s on my list too.