Sylvester says there’s going to be another storm tonight, and according to the radar, it could be worse than the one last week.
I swallow, my heart withering as it passes the island. Maybe if I could get to the light, I would’ve been able to figure out a way to turn it on and beckon the ship to us. I’m not entirely sure it would’ve cut through the fog, but it’s better than standing outside my cave, watching it drift by.
What-the-fuck-ever. We’ve been on the island for nineteen days now, but Sylvester had said the ship came by a few days before we wrecked. That leaves about eight before it comes by again, and we can get the hell off.
Do you even want to?
I bite my lip, turning away from the fucking tease that just passed by. Do I?
Is it really feasible to stay here with Sylvester? The man truly gives me the creeps, but I hardly see him as long as I make myself scarce.
Or are you just trading one prison for another?
I’m trapped in other people’s lives. Tangled in the web of names carefully selected by loving mothers and fathers. Or maybe they weren’t loved at all. Maybe they weren’t even wanted.
Just like Enzo.
I sniff, still put off from last week. I feel like my insides have been scraped raw, and every time I feel an emotion swelling, it rubs painfully against the open wound. I drank too much. Shared too much. Then caused more pain. And now I’m left with the tattered remains.
Enzo and I have barely spoken, and much to my dismay, Sylvester has used that opportunity to get me to spend time with him instead. But I tolerate it anyway because bad company is still better than being left alone with Kev in my head.
I don't like attachments, but I cling to those who offer something meaningless.
Until Enzo, at least.
Last night, the mounting tension finally broke me. So I whittled some vodka in a water bottle and stayed up all night sucking it down while Enzo slept beside me.
I came so close to reaching out to him, getting down on my knees, and begging for his forgiveness. I don’t know why or how, but I fucking miss him.
I prefer his fire over ice, his anger over silence, and his hate over indifference.
I would take the worst of him if it meant I never had to go without him.
Sighing, I stand and amble down into the cave, tripping over a loose rock that crumbles beneath my unstable feet. I’m still feeling the ramifications of that vodka, and every breath stokes the urge to empty the contents of my stomach onto the floor.
Never. Again.
Fuck alcohol. It never gets me anywhere good. It got me caught up in Enzo’s arms, to begin with, and seems to keep bringing me back—and every time, it’s a colossal mistake.
I stumble again, tripping over my toe and just scarcely catching myself. Jesus, I need a fucking walker. I’m pretty sure I’m still a little drunk.
When I heard the snick of the door unlocking this morning, I was out of the lighthouse within a few minutes, which means it’s just after seven AM now. My sleep was fitful and entirely frustrating. Even in a catatonic state, the tension is impenetrable and refuses to budge.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I jumped out of the warm blankets, threw on my only pair of shorts and a random t-shirt I found on the ground, and hightailed it out of there. I felt his eyes on me the entire time, but I refused to meet them.
I’m angry, and I’m not even sure why anymore. I shouldn’t give him the power to hurt me, but I've always been malleable to him. He draws me in, uses my body against me, and then shuts me down seconds later, leaving me bereft and feeling colder than before.
He’s just… he’s just a fucking asshole.
My skin glows an aqua hue as I emerge into the cave, the glowworms wriggling above me. I’ve come here every day since I discovered this place, and it still takes my fucking breath away.
“Hi there, friends,” I call out gently, even going as far as to wriggle a finger at them affectionately. I only sweet-talk them because I don’t want one of them to drop in my mouth unexpectedly.
Though I suspect if I do take refuge here, I’ll grow so lonely that I’ll make them talk back.
I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, I guess.
Instead of resting by the water and dipping my toes in like I usually do, I bypass the pool and head toward the back end of the cave. For the past couple of days, I’ve been pushing to see how far I can go. The uncertainty clings because I’m still convinced there’s a chance some otherworldly creature will crawl out from the depths and slaughter me, but if this place can foster glowworms and an underground pool, then I’m curious if there’s more to discover.