March 19,
I fell in love with someone who doesn't exist. That makes my world a lie. I feel like I can't trust anyone, and it turns out....I can't trust my feelings or my own version of reality either.
It's like I'm scrambling to piece together a story about myself, that has nothing and everything to do with who I really am. It's nothing, because this story is only fragments and random moments of understanding----its everything because it's the only thing I have.
I folded the crumpled up piece of paper neatly and shoved it back into my short's pocket. That violent motion making the man----my cellmate look up from his daze. But as soon as he realized it wasn't the guards he quickly fell back into deep thought. Probably about what's going to happen. How they were going to execute us. He thin and gruggy, like he'd been here awhile. I don't know what it was, but I was getting the hint that he was a family man.
It I were to be honest, I thought he was legit dead. Like, that was the first time I seen him move in hours. Is that....is that what happens to people here? Am I going to be like that? Back home we'd always make fun of being "dead inside", but now that I was face to face with it, the idea seemed so eerie.
I just wanted to go home. To question my mom about the scientist and how he fucked up my face. To sue someone. And for the first time in months, I genuinely wanted to be violent----towards him. Throughout our whole relationship, he would give me a bunch of cookie crums....and then a jar of cookies. And the next thing you know that was taken all away because he had "trust issues". I didn't do anything to make you not trust me, the fuck. You just didn't.
And every fucking person at our church was like...."aw, they are so cute" and "I hope God blesses you with many little ones in the future"-------had me convinced that he was the one I was supposed to be with at fucking sixteen. Because he was the perfect preacher's boy. Little did they know that the preacher slept with everyone. That this preacher boy's birth mom was a drug addict. And that he was fucking insane.
That's the main part, he was fucking insane.
And I knew if I told him that to his face, he would knock my two front teeth out. I wanted him to do that, at this point. I wanted a reason that I could knock his ass out. I feel like it would make up for all the times he put his hands on me. And tricked me into thinking it was something that I did. And then when we broke up....he had the audacity to claim that I cheated and to out me for being bi. And they didn't believe me either. Because he was the preacher boy, and I was now the gay kid. Little did they know when I came out to him, he told me it doesn't matter. That he loved me regardless.
Ew. Love. Spit it out and trash it. I don't want his little shit-show anyways. Not after what he did to Bailey. Me and that dog were the only things holding that house together. She was my bestfriend----after I had sacrificed all my other friendships for him. And then he fucking threw it away. He was insane -----Trash. He was trash.
I blew out a breath and placed a shaking hand over my face. The tears were coming now and I sniffed, not wanting to cry so loudly. What the fuck was I doing? I was literally on death row, and I was still thinking about him. What was wrong with me?
I sniffed and reached for my pocket. I probably should finish reading that. It probably wouldn't heal in the span of now and my untimely death but you know...better late than never.
"Attention!"
My prison mate and I both sat up to see a prison guard watching us through the bars. He made no move to open the gate but turned to watch the man intensely. Oh. I knew him. I definitely knew him. And he was on my hate list.
I stood up, watching him watch the man. Okay. Why are you just standing there?
The guard turned to someone to the side of him, who was hidden on the other side of the stone wall. "He is near death, sir."
"So it worked." A voice said.
I stepped forward and gripped the bars. "So. Are you gonna let me out?"
The ignored me and continued talking about the sick man.
"Excuse me----"
"If you do not shut you're mouth, you wench!" The guard suddenly turned to snap at me.
I raised a surprised eyebrow. No really. I was shocked. Like, he went from a 2 to a 10. "Or what? What are you going to do?"
He tried to say something but I inturrupted him.
"If this dude has the fucking bubanic plague," I motioned towards the man slumped over near the window. "-----and I've been in this cell for days with him.....what do you think you're gonna get?! A fucking cookie?"
"Excuse me, miss." The character behind the wall suddenly appeared in front of the gate. He had a powerful, relentless air about him. He looked to be in his early to late twenties-----with a dark full beard and beady, calculating blue eyes. It was obvious that he was a higher rank than the other guy. "I am a general of the Macedonian army, Ptolemy."
"Ah...." I nodded. Cool. I don't give a fuck, but I'll keep that in mind. "What can you do for me?"
Damn, I'm being a little ballsy today.
He looked genuinely surprised but then quickly covered it up. "That man...."
I looked to where he was pointing-----the man in the corner. Yep. That man.
"He has tried to dawn the crown of Eris. It has cursed him and made him sick. Once a proud soldier under my command, now dwindled to near ashes."
Don't know why he just explained that like I was a fucking child, but okay.
I nodded. "Well. He really shouldn't have done that. My guess is....more people have tried the crown....? I don't think you'd be coming here on one account. Just like how you competely side stepped me when I said who it belonged to, you're gonna keep on believing what you want to believe. Sohowmanypeople?"
He raised an eyebrow, seeming to be overloaded. "Pardon?"
"How many people have tried the helmet on?"
He glanced away, looking like he really didn't want to answer that. "Several. Fifteen."
I nodded, taking this in. So....fifteen people finna die because of stupidity. Got it. "So. You gonna let me out or not? I need to try on the helmet."
Ptolemy nodded to the other guard and reluctantly, he bent over to unlock the gate. I stepped forward, and glanced at the man still sitting by the window. I kinda felt bad for him....but there was nothing I could do. I had to save my own skin.
The guard grunted and grabbed my arm too tightly. "Move along."
I paused and looked at him. "Too tight. Let go----"
His big, bruelly hand immediately came across my face and sending me flying into the concrete behind me. Holding my face, I shakingly stood up. Holy....holy shit.
"And if that helmet fits?"
His eyebrows furried as the veins in his neck began to bulge. "You----!"
"If the helmet fits!" I was shaking so bad that I could probably fall over---half of the reason being hunger. "Who will I come for first? You and you're slimy, ratchet, mundane, crusty ass elbows."
I glanced at his feet. "You're pitiful sandles! Ratchet dry ass, mommy-help-me-I-need-lotion-ass knee caps! You're yeeeeLLLOW, uncircumcised broken down teeth! Who will I come for first?! It's YoU, you dumb bag of brainless shit that looks like a walking unWIPED ASSHOLE!"
The man stared at me for a long time, his hurt ego immediately being covered up by anger. He looked like he wanted to knock me out.
I nodded. "I know what you did to that woman in the cell across from me. And for that specifically, fuck you."
He stepped forward and tried to say something smart but my fist had already swung across his face. And to make sure he didn't get up, I slammed my foot into his hip bone and brought my knee up to meet with his cranium----two times. I had to be sure.
As he layed there holding his bloody face and moaning, I did my own version of the cha-cha-slide. "Dumb bitch."
The general, Ptolemy, was trying not to react as he stepped over the loser's body. "Shall we?"