Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
“He was pissed. So fucking pissed, Brooke, I knew it, too. And he came at me. He came at me even with a bat in my hand, that’s how fearless he was. I didn’t even give him a chance, not one fucking chance.” My breathing escalated.
“I lost control. I raised the bat that was seamlessly gripped in my hands, as high as I could from behind me, and as he made his way over to me, I made sure to swing it at precisely the perfect second. It hit him directly in the temple of his head and I heard it snap,” I laughed out, nervously, deviously.
“It snapped so loud that I can still fucking hear it. I watched his body fall to the ground, lifeless. You want to hear the really fucked up part, Brooklyn?” I taunted, as tears streamed down her face, big ugly tears, but she didn’t make a sound.
“I crouched down to the ground and spit in his face, I spit directly into his fucking dead face. Knowing I had killed him and not fucking caring one damn bit. Because he could never hurt my mother or sisters again.” I violently shook my head.
“I didn’t care about me. They could have locked me in prison for the rest of my life, and I would have proudly served my time. See, Brooke,” I whispered into the side of her face, still squeezing her neck, but kissing her at the same time.
“I’m a monster, too.” I held her there, not moving and just breathing her in.
Her fear.
Her sadness.
Her despair.
Her tears.
I wanted it all.
She sobbed and it choked her breathing, which I held onto so desperately; so brutally. When I realized what I was doing, what I had done, it was too late. I immediately let her go and her body fell forward, sucking in the air that I was taking away.
“Fuck,” I stepped back, raising my hands in the air. “Fuck… I’m so sorry,” I frantically pleaded, tears falling down my face that I hadn’t felt before.
Was I crying that entire time?
She was hunched over, placing all her weight on her knees. Breathing in fresh air. She looked up at me with her Bambi eyes that I loved so much.
“It’s okay,” she gasped, standing up and reaching her arms toward me. “It’s okay, Devon, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry you went through that,” she sobbed, walking toward me, as I stepped back away from her.
I couldn’t take it; I didn’t want her sympathy, or her concern. I had hurt her.
I was my father.
“Don’t touch me, Brooke,” I cautioned, moving her hands away from me.
“Devon, please… please… I’m so sorry… just let me…” she pleaded in a voice of pure desperation and sorrow.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Brooke, I’m warning you.”
She didn’t let up trying to touch my face, my arms, and my chest. Her hands burned, it was as if she was touching me with fire. It hurt everywhere she placed them, everywhere she touched me, leaving behind deeper scars than the ones my father had left.
“I’m so sorry, Devon, so sorry,” she mourned, pulling me into a hug.
It was too much.
It was too real.
It overwhelmed me and consumed me.
It hurt me and it killed me.
I reacted.
I punched the wall behind her, breaking right through the drywall. She screamed and shuddered, when I looked at her face…
I didn’t see Brooke, I didn’t see Bambi, and I didn’t see a VIP.
I saw my mother.
I backed away from her immediately and left her there. I ran toward the door and out of her life.
Terrified of what else…
I was capable of.
<>B<>
I don’t know how long I stood there in shock over what had just happened. I fell to the ground at one point, crying and bawling for everything.
There was no start or beginning to where my tears flowed; they were endless. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think.
All of it.
We were two broken people that had found their way to one another.
God was cruel.
I was shaking so badly, I hurt everywhere. My hand securely wrapped around my throat. It burned and it was sore, but in a fucked up way, it was comforting; because I could still feel his presence. I laid my hand on top of me like a blanket keeping me warm. The chest pains took over and I laid myself onto the floor.
Mourning the loss of my life.
My heart.
My future.
My love.
It had run out my door, taking everything I wanted and knew I couldn’t have with him.
I fell asleep in a fit of despair and loneliness. When I woke up, I was laying in my bed. I had no idea how I even ended up there. My heart soared, thinking that it was Devon who placed me in there. I ran out of my bedroom like a bat out of hell, making my way into the kitchen.