the door jamb like she’s been standing there for a while.
“What did you do to Tylor?” she asks, confirming my suspicions of her standing there for a bit.
“What I should have done a long time ago. He fought me in the pit. When he was losing, he thought telling me what he did to you would throw me off. Distract me enough to give him a chance to win. Instead, it did the opposite, and I almost beat him to death. He’s still in the hospital recovering.”
Her hazel eyes go wide, and she stands up a little straighter. “You did what? Why? What if he tells the police?”
Feeling smug, I almost laugh. It’s like she actually cares about me.
“Don’t worry, bug. He won’t say shit. He already talked to the police. Told them he got mugged. Case closed.”
“Why would you do something like that?”
“He hurt you. That’s reason enough. I would gladly kill him. Matter of fact, I would go to the hospital right now and end his life if you asked me to. If his death would help you get rid of your demons, then I would make it happen.” I would do all of it, consequences be damned. If I had to spend the rest of my life in prison just so he wouldn’t take another breath, I would.
I mean every single word I say, and Kennedy knows it too. I can see it in her eyes, she believes me. Even if she doesn’t want to believe that I’m changing, that I’m not going anywhere, that I’m in this for the long haul, she sees it.
“Why are you on the floor?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Your couch is comfortable to sit on, but there isn’t enough room for me to lie flat, so I moved to the carpet. It’s fine though, don’t worry about me.” I almost slap myself in the face after I say it. My back is killing me.
“Oh, okay.” She turns around and starts walking back into her bedroom. She only takes one step before twisting back around. “If you swear not to touch me, I’ll let you sleep in my bed with me.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek, so I don’t grin like a fool. “Okay. I swear. No touching, only sleeping.”
“I’m serious, Jackson, touch me, and I’ll murder you in your sleep.”
Her threat makes me smile, and I climb up off the floor. Grabbing my blanket and pillow, I follow her into her room. I watch her climb into the bed and curl up on one side. I get in on the other, making sure there is a good amount of space between us while I get comfortable, stretching my aching limbs. My back is already thanking me for accepting her offer.
She turns off the light, drowning the room into darkness.
“Good night, Kennedy,” I whisper, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders.
“Good night,” she whispers back.
It takes me some time to fall asleep, but when I do, it’s with her floral scent deep in my nose and the warmth of her body close to mine.
30
Kennedy
Everything seems to fall back into place, the only difference is I have a six-foot-two-inch guy that sleeps beside me every night. Jackson has taken up permanent residency as my roommate. I stopped telling him to leave me alone, mainly because it was a waste of my time and annoying since he didn’t listen anyway.
I find my way back into a routine. School, homework, eat, sleep… there is only one thing that’s been missing. Since that night, I haven’t cut myself. It was part of my life for so long. Part of my day, really. Even with me going to therapy, I struggle every day. It was more than a bad habit—it was an addiction. One that I can’t just turn off.
I promised myself and my family that I wouldn’t cut myself again, and I haven’t… but I have been picking at the scabs. It still gives me some of the pain, some of the release I crave. Problem is, now the scabs are healed.
Standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror, I probe at the pink skin where the largest cut was. I press my finger down as hard as I can, but the release never comes. I stand inside the bathroom for a long time, fighting with myself on what to do. I took the razor blades out of the medicine cabinet, but I hid a few under the sink. Maybe I can just