It was on a Tuesday that Lottie disappeared, the sweet girl. She'd been acting weird for the days before, outbreaks in class, wearing awfully modest clothes, a sharp contrast to her usually revealing garments. When she stood up, a sliver of her skin had shown and I thought I saw a patch of something dark on her hip, textured and oozing. Of course, nobody else noticed anything. She'd always been th...
I'd always known I wasn't normal. It was in a flower garden that she'd told me that she wasn't either. Maybe that's why we clung onto each other like rafts, trying our best just to stay afloat, to survive. I wanted her, not out of love, but necessity. I needed her to survive, just as I needed my blood, my organs. Is that why I held onto her so tightly? Never let her leave? Is that why I destroyed ...
