that; do you, princess? The voice in my head appears again. This time it’s way clearer and louder. It’s now to the point where I recognize it perfectly.
“Dammit.” I frown. “This can’t be happening… it had to be a dream… there’s no way you can really be inside my head.”
Nope, it’s really happening. I’m in your thoughts now, even more so than last night when I compelled you to go to that club, so I could trick you into drinking my life, he says with amusement in his tone. Besides, deep down, you wanted to give in to me. Just like when you took my life… I bet you loved it.
I don’t react because it will give him a sense of satisfaction that I don’t want him to have. “It could still be a dream,” I say in denial. “Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe I’m really still asleep, maybe you and I and my room and this conversation aren’t really happening. Or maybe the Anamotti are making me think this is happening.”
You know it’s real, he says. You know you went there last night just like you know the black lines on your arms are from you devouring my life, tasting it and loving it.
I wince at the partial truth of his accusation. “Leave me alone, Cameron. I don’t want you here. And you can’t stay here if I don’t want you to.”
Things don’t work like that anymore , he says. Especially after you took some of my life.
Shit. I knew there was a stipulation; a reason why he wanted me to do that.
Aggravated, I throw the blankets off my body and climb out of bed, trudging towards the dresser.
Nice pajamas, he jokes.
As I glance down at my black shorts and thin purple tank top, he laughs at meandI shake my head and yank a dresser drawer open.
“About what you said last night; do you really know something about my father or was that just one of your games?”
I can’t tell you that yet.
I rummage through the drawer for a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. “Please, Cameron, this is important to me.” I hate the fact that it seems like I’m begging.
There’s a long pause and I hold my breath, waiting for his answer, thinking for a moment that he might actually give one to me.
But then he says, I might tell you in time, but not right now. In fact, you’re not ready right now. Plus, I have to get what I want first; you have to give in before I give up my secrets.
Fury ignites inside me as I snatch up a shirt, jeans, and a pair of fingerless gloves to hide the lines on my arms before slamming the drawer shut, then I start for the closet. As I stomp towards it, I catch sight of the poem Cameron wrote on the wall weeks ago. It reminds me what his mission is in all of this.
In separate fields of black feathers, the birds fly.
Four wings, two hearts, but only one soul.
They connect in the middle, though are separated by a thin line of ash.
It’s what brings them together, yet rips their feathers apart.
They can never truly be together as light and dark.
Unless one makes the ultimate sacrifice.
Blows out their candle, and joins the other in the dark.
It’s the poem that I read on Cameron’s wall, but three extra lines have been added.
Or if the one dares to fly across the line and steal the other’s light
To force them to cross over the line and join the darkness of life.
I’m not gone, princess. I will come back for you until you give in.
—Cameron
“You know, I’m never going to give in to you,” I tell him, drawing the closet curtain back as I duck inside. “I’m going to figure this out, so you might as well just leave my mind alone.”
You really think you will? He questions . Because I think you’re more lost now than you were a few days ago. I think with each day you grow weaker, more desperate. Lonelier. More willing to stand here and listen to me talk to you inside your head because I’m the only one you have to talk to
“Dammit.” I frown. “This can’t be happening… it had to be a dream… there’s no way you can really be inside my head.”
Nope, it’s really happening. I’m in your thoughts now, even more so than last night when I compelled you to go to that club, so I could trick you into drinking my life, he says with amusement in his tone. Besides, deep down, you wanted to give in to me. Just like when you took my life… I bet you loved it.
I don’t react because it will give him a sense of satisfaction that I don’t want him to have. “It could still be a dream,” I say in denial. “Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe I’m really still asleep, maybe you and I and my room and this conversation aren’t really happening. Or maybe the Anamotti are making me think this is happening.”
You know it’s real, he says. You know you went there last night just like you know the black lines on your arms are from you devouring my life, tasting it and loving it.
I wince at the partial truth of his accusation. “Leave me alone, Cameron. I don’t want you here. And you can’t stay here if I don’t want you to.”
Things don’t work like that anymore , he says. Especially after you took some of my life.
Shit. I knew there was a stipulation; a reason why he wanted me to do that.
Aggravated, I throw the blankets off my body and climb out of bed, trudging towards the dresser.
Nice pajamas, he jokes.
As I glance down at my black shorts and thin purple tank top, he laughs at meandI shake my head and yank a dresser drawer open.
“About what you said last night; do you really know something about my father or was that just one of your games?”
I can’t tell you that yet.
I rummage through the drawer for a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. “Please, Cameron, this is important to me.” I hate the fact that it seems like I’m begging.
There’s a long pause and I hold my breath, waiting for his answer, thinking for a moment that he might actually give one to me.
But then he says, I might tell you in time, but not right now. In fact, you’re not ready right now. Plus, I have to get what I want first; you have to give in before I give up my secrets.
Fury ignites inside me as I snatch up a shirt, jeans, and a pair of fingerless gloves to hide the lines on my arms before slamming the drawer shut, then I start for the closet. As I stomp towards it, I catch sight of the poem Cameron wrote on the wall weeks ago. It reminds me what his mission is in all of this.
In separate fields of black feathers, the birds fly.
Four wings, two hearts, but only one soul.
They connect in the middle, though are separated by a thin line of ash.
It’s what brings them together, yet rips their feathers apart.
They can never truly be together as light and dark.
Unless one makes the ultimate sacrifice.
Blows out their candle, and joins the other in the dark.
It’s the poem that I read on Cameron’s wall, but three extra lines have been added.
Or if the one dares to fly across the line and steal the other’s light
To force them to cross over the line and join the darkness of life.
I’m not gone, princess. I will come back for you until you give in.
—Cameron
“You know, I’m never going to give in to you,” I tell him, drawing the closet curtain back as I duck inside. “I’m going to figure this out, so you might as well just leave my mind alone.”
You really think you will? He questions . Because I think you’re more lost now than you were a few days ago. I think with each day you grow weaker, more desperate. Lonelier. More willing to stand here and listen to me talk to you inside your head because I’m the only one you have to talk to
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