Taming The Wild Ones

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Have A Little Faith

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Have A Little Faith

Slowly, I picked myself up. The world spun and all sound evaporated. The thing inside of me moaned, wounded and in despair, its fate already sealed. The ringing in my ear subsided and a cold breathe left me. The insistent nagging had left. The warm, buttery feeling that filled me with the usual thoughts of Colton, had disappeared. I felt the walls inside of me fortify. It grew stronger than it ever had been, impenetrable and insuperable. Hard and inflexible, that which he tried to break down, rose from the ashes, from death. Cold dread flooded me, more feeling than I ever had since the change. He was gone before he even stepped on that soccer field, gone before I even gave him my first insult. I looked down at Astrid's still body. Her eyes were closed but a haunted feeling shivered through me. If she were awake, if those eyes were staring at me, they would hold smug victory. I stubble away from her, my head pounding, my body burning like hell was inside my heart with the devil laughing. I wanted to scream, the misery and lost and anger and an unexplainable sensation of loneliness rippling like liquid silver in my veins. I never stood a chance with Colton. Especially not now, not now when my body felt foreign. Not now when I felt myself collapse into darkness, a familiar howling calm possessing my body unyieldingly. Never stood a chance. We were never going to make it, fate had made a mistake. And the longer I stood there, the more I felt him slip away. Slowly, and all too quickly I was beginning to forget him. Forget my feelings. Until I truthfully didn't care.

A loud pop sounded in my ear and my head snapped up. Grant and Devon looked at my cautiously, fearfully and with a sad sympathy. I cocked my head to the side and peered at them curiously. "So, I think I need a little venting. Don't you?"

The two looked taken back, surprised etched on their faces after seeing me break down. But I said it a thousand times and I'd say it again: I don't care. I smirked triumphantly and began walking towards the trees. And never had that sentence been more true. I no longer cared, there was no fooling myself this time. This time I wasn't left heartbroken. I was just, broken. And what do broken women have to lose?

I marched through the trees with Grant and Devon trailing along, allowing this newfound energy to overpower me. It became my new instinct, set ablaze down my spine and cracked with fury. Savoring the burn, the electrifying prickling dancing rapidly over my skin, pulsing with delirious excitement, I set my mind for the kill.

"Haley, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? I reckon teenage suicide is wrong but I can't be one to talk." I sent them a maniac smile over my shoulder.

"Yeah, your suicidal tendencies could make the Pope depressed-" Devon deadpanned, snapping a branch out of his way as he jogged after me.

"But they aren't as high as her homicidal tenedecies right now." Grant whispered so loudly, I stopped dead in my tracks. I turned around, stoic as I looked the two boys in the eye. Looking from one to another, you could barely tell the difference, Same face, same stance, same frightfully eagar faces as if they were one second away from blowing up the White House. No doubt in my mind, I knew that no matter what I told them, I wouldn't be able to shake them off the same way could shake Colton. Too damn stubborn for their own good, and now it was like an annoying itch. I needed to make sure these two would not get in my way.

"What? You think I'm gonna invite Archer over for a cup of tea and make nice? Maybe share a couple of knitting patterns over bonding?" I tried keeping my voice cool but it cracked with intensity.

"You don't even drink tea." Devon retorted, folding his arms across his chest as if it was completely stupid and nothing more could be said.

"And nobody would trust you with a pair of knitting needles." Grant added. I took a sharp breathe and stepped back. The urge to kill swallowed me alive and was thrumming like a drum inside of me. I wasn't going mad. I was mad. Possessed. My joints pained with it. My tongued dried and I felt as if killing would hydrate me.