Page 4
Just like my soul, it’s no longer whole. It’s been broken, tossed aside.
“They don’t all change, Bry. This isn’t about the cupcakes. Is it?”
I brace my palms on the sink, my shoulders curling in as my head hangs.
“No,” I whisper.
I can’t look at him, too ashamed of the familiar rise of insecurities that always plague me. I hate that they’re too heavy for me to deal with alone, that Noah has to step in and support me. He’s done it for as long as we’ve known each other, and I don’t know if I can ever truly stand on my own or if I’ll forever rely on people to brace me.
“The right people don’t change. You just got dealt a really poor hand at the start of your life, and you weren’t given the right people. Now you have them. In all these years, have any of us shown you any different?”
“No,” I whisper, slightly louder this time.
His words fill me with a small margin of hope, reminding me of where I am, how far I’ve come from the darker days of childhood.
“If Rosy’s the right person, she won’t change her mind either, and she’ll love your cupcakes. Though you won’t be awake to give them to her if you stay up any later,” he says, squeezing my shoulder.
An indignant huff leaves my lips, but I nod. Suddenly my body’s too exhausted to fight.
“Come on, I’ll help get this cleaned up. We’ll get some sleep, then we can go grovel to her tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, I’ll see her and see if she still wants me.
THREE
PETER
Seeing the look of horror on my kitten’s face sends a tendril of excitement through me. Her fear does more to me than I could’ve imagined.
This isn’t the first time I’ve taken matters into my own hands and taken something for myself. Life is too unjust to give me what I deserve. I do what needs to be done to make it mine.
Everyone does it, whether it’s intentional or not. From the very start, man and beast have taken what they want. A lion doesn’t question a zebra before they hunt and kill it. A country doesn’t care about destroying lives when they declare war on another. A person doesn’t think about the other person when they cut in front of them, or if a person’s homeless, or they take the very last item on the shelf.
We are born hungry, greedy, from the start.
Taking Rosy is no different from all the other selfish acts this world faces.
Sadly, my other pets are no longer with us. They didn’t behave, and some pushed me too far. I gave them everything, and they weren’t grateful enough.
Never mind.
This new kitten, though, she’s special.
I’ll make her into the perfect pet.
“P-Peter?” her sweet voice stutters. Her chest heaves, and her eyes are wide, pupils blown.
“Yes, pet. Although, call me Master or Sir.”
Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, painting glistening, seductive ribbons down her pale cheeks and into her soft, luscious hair.
A long pause stretches, blanketing the room. It steals her pulse and breath, draining the blood from her face.
“No, no, no. This…this isn’t happening. Let me go, please, Peter.”
Usually, I like discipline from my pets, but her defiance has a hunger rising in me. She yanks and tugs at the bindings, refusing to accept her fate. Her new life.
Her life, which is now mine.
