forces me to.
I hate it. And I hate him for making me do it.
If I at all cared about sustaining myself in any way, that would be the last on my list of ways of doing so. Well, actually, it wouldn’t be on my list at all.
‘ But it’s the way it is, so you just have to get on with it,’ as the habitually cold and hard Nathan puts it.
He hates me. I know he does. He doesn’t say it but he doesn’t have to. I can feel his resentment for me emanating out of him like a bad odour. He barely looks at me and he always keeps his distance. I don’t blame him. I’m me and I hate me. I deserve to be hated.
Any form of communication Nathan and I did have disintegrated after our confrontation that first night in the barn.
The only time I see him is when he comes to bring me blood and there’s no interaction, no conversation. I think I’d die of shock if he came in and said, ‘Hi Alex, how are you doing?’ Actually, me dying of shock wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe I should ask him to try it.
Our conversations, if you can call them that, are limited to single syllables.
Nathan: ‘Blood.’
Me: ‘No.’
Nathan: ‘Yes.’
...and rinse and repeat.
Mainly, I spend my time alone trapped here with my painful memories and dwelling thoughts, wondering just why it is the people I love most die.
I’m so lonely.
But then this room could be filled with a hundred people and I’d still be lonely because the people I want to cure this loneliness I will never see again.
Jack and Sol are nice people. They’re kind. They try hard with me, try to help me, try to be my friends. And in another life I would have loved to have called them friends. But not now.
Now I don’t want friends.
Sol on a few occasions over the first couple of days tried to coax me out of my room, which was fruitless. The only time I ever leave my room is to use the bathroom. He soon gave up and now just comes in here and sits with me after he finishes work on the farm. He chats animatedly, telling me about his day and any other topic he can think of. I don’t have anything to add to the conversations, so I just sit on my bed and listen politely, waiting for the moment when he leaves so I can fold in on myself.
I just want to go home. I want back that safe feeling that only home can give you. I want everything I had back, except for Eddie. Actually, I’d endure a lifetime of Eddie if it meant I could have everything back as it was.
I wish there were a time machine I could climb into that would take me out of this room and back to that moment before we stepped into the forest. I’d do it all so differently. I’d leave my phone where it lay in the forest. We’d never go in for it. And everything would be okay. Carrie would still be alive.
I stare blankly into my regret from my seat by the window. It’s pitch black outside. There isn’t a star in the sky. The moon isn’t visible for me to see. It’s almost if as the sky knows my misery and is in mourning with me.
The house is empty. Jack and Sol are on an overnight trip away. They left this afternoon, farm business I assume. I didn’t ask, they didn’t tell. So, for tonight it’s just me and Nathan. Whoopee.
Nathan’s not in the house at the moment. I heard him go out a few hours ago. He won’t be far away, though. Nathan may keep his distance but he always has a watchful eye on me.
A sigh escapes, drifting off into the darkness, followed by an unexpected tear. It trickles out from the corner of my eye, slides down my cheekbone and soaks into my hair. I bring my knees up to my chest, resting my bare feet on the edge of the wooden chair, and wrap my arms around my legs and hug them tightly to me.
Movement in the garden catches my eye and I hear the back door open and bang shut. Nathan’s home.
The next thing I know my bedroom door is opening and Nathan’s standing in the doorway, a huge shadow in the darkness. “I need your help.” He sounds stressed.
I put my feet down to the
I hate it. And I hate him for making me do it.
If I at all cared about sustaining myself in any way, that would be the last on my list of ways of doing so. Well, actually, it wouldn’t be on my list at all.
‘ But it’s the way it is, so you just have to get on with it,’ as the habitually cold and hard Nathan puts it.
He hates me. I know he does. He doesn’t say it but he doesn’t have to. I can feel his resentment for me emanating out of him like a bad odour. He barely looks at me and he always keeps his distance. I don’t blame him. I’m me and I hate me. I deserve to be hated.
Any form of communication Nathan and I did have disintegrated after our confrontation that first night in the barn.
The only time I see him is when he comes to bring me blood and there’s no interaction, no conversation. I think I’d die of shock if he came in and said, ‘Hi Alex, how are you doing?’ Actually, me dying of shock wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe I should ask him to try it.
Our conversations, if you can call them that, are limited to single syllables.
Nathan: ‘Blood.’
Me: ‘No.’
Nathan: ‘Yes.’
...and rinse and repeat.
Mainly, I spend my time alone trapped here with my painful memories and dwelling thoughts, wondering just why it is the people I love most die.
I’m so lonely.
But then this room could be filled with a hundred people and I’d still be lonely because the people I want to cure this loneliness I will never see again.
Jack and Sol are nice people. They’re kind. They try hard with me, try to help me, try to be my friends. And in another life I would have loved to have called them friends. But not now.
Now I don’t want friends.
Sol on a few occasions over the first couple of days tried to coax me out of my room, which was fruitless. The only time I ever leave my room is to use the bathroom. He soon gave up and now just comes in here and sits with me after he finishes work on the farm. He chats animatedly, telling me about his day and any other topic he can think of. I don’t have anything to add to the conversations, so I just sit on my bed and listen politely, waiting for the moment when he leaves so I can fold in on myself.
I just want to go home. I want back that safe feeling that only home can give you. I want everything I had back, except for Eddie. Actually, I’d endure a lifetime of Eddie if it meant I could have everything back as it was.
I wish there were a time machine I could climb into that would take me out of this room and back to that moment before we stepped into the forest. I’d do it all so differently. I’d leave my phone where it lay in the forest. We’d never go in for it. And everything would be okay. Carrie would still be alive.
I stare blankly into my regret from my seat by the window. It’s pitch black outside. There isn’t a star in the sky. The moon isn’t visible for me to see. It’s almost if as the sky knows my misery and is in mourning with me.
The house is empty. Jack and Sol are on an overnight trip away. They left this afternoon, farm business I assume. I didn’t ask, they didn’t tell. So, for tonight it’s just me and Nathan. Whoopee.
Nathan’s not in the house at the moment. I heard him go out a few hours ago. He won’t be far away, though. Nathan may keep his distance but he always has a watchful eye on me.
A sigh escapes, drifting off into the darkness, followed by an unexpected tear. It trickles out from the corner of my eye, slides down my cheekbone and soaks into my hair. I bring my knees up to my chest, resting my bare feet on the edge of the wooden chair, and wrap my arms around my legs and hug them tightly to me.
Movement in the garden catches my eye and I hear the back door open and bang shut. Nathan’s home.
The next thing I know my bedroom door is opening and Nathan’s standing in the doorway, a huge shadow in the darkness. “I need your help.” He sounds stressed.
I put my feet down to the
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