The Toxic Children Read Online Free PDF Page A

that. I lost control, and I did not feel. I was the monster. I understand that I am losing consciousness. I can feel myself dying.
    I breathe deeply, trying to be nothing. Not human, not Adaption. I want the fight in my head to go quiet. I want to stop fighting. I have been fighting for much too long.
    “Killing will kill the human inside you,” says the worst man I ever killed—at least of the ones who stayed behind in my head. His black eyes watch me. “I would think you would kill every chance you got until it died. I know it hurts.”
    “My devil,” I say. “That would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”
    “The thing is, Inanis, you will never be happy. The closest you will get to happiness is to feel nothing, and the only way you will feel nothing is to kill the humanity. It’s up to you. Hang on, or let go,” he says, disappearing.
    Hang on or let go . That is all there is. That is all I have. He’s right. It isn’t win or lose; it isn’t fight or give up. I can hang on to what I could never be, or let go and become what I am supposed to.
    The Woman shows up then. They rarely come so close to each other.
    “I know why you’re here,” I say. “You think that, because you’re my mother, you can save me from the hell your kind created. You think you can say something that will change me, wake me up.”
    “If you choose to let your essence die, we will be gone. We cannot exist in a mind that cannot imagine. You will have to let us go.”
    “I know that!” I snap. The outburst makes my head spin.
    “I will not tell you what to do. I am not going to stop you. I have no right to, Inanis. I’m sorry,” she says, fading away before I can say another word.
    These visions in my head are my ties. They keep me here—they keep the human alive. When I fall into the depths, they pull me up, talk me down, but they are not real. None of them are. The only things left keeping me human are made of my insanity. The truth is…there is nothing left for the human in me. I need to adapt. The red girl is the only real thing I know, and she longs for death. I will outlive her, and when she is gone and I am alone with myself, the monster inside will tear me apart. The human in me, the essence, will not stand a chance. It is not a matter of whether or not; it is only a matter of when . That is the truth.
    I can feel my funeral coming. I think I have begun to accept what will be inside the grave.

Chapter [9]
     
     
    The days blur together, a mass of pain and sickness. I read once of drug addiction, and I think this must be akin to withdrawal. I have not killed anything more than a rabbit in days, and I forced myself to not relish in the kill. I do not know if I am trying to fight the monster still or if I am trying to starve myself before the final kill that lets me go. The inside of my head is not a place I understand.
    Several days pass before I see the red again. Anytime I don’t, she starts fading in my head. I would think I made her up, but my imagination isn’t that good. The people in my head are curses; she would be a fantasy. Maybe a curse, too—maybe the worst curse of them all.
    I walk near her house, trying to distract myself from the shaking in my bones, in my nerves. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but then I notice her standing on the roof of her two-story house, looking down at the ground.
    “What are you doing?” I ask. The days without speaking make the words rough in my throat.
    Her eyes widen when she sees me, like fear but not quite—startled, maybe. “I’ve been thinking if I kill myself, it will make me a terrible person, and being a terrible person hurts me more than anyone, so doesn’t that make it the best punishment?”
    “What are you talking about?” I ask. Her body sways precariously, dangerously.
    “I don’t deserve to be remembered. I don’t deserve to live on. I’ve hurt people and I’ve killed people. I’m broken. Shouldn’t I kill myself? Wouldn’t that make things