She hates the dark and she hates that his stupid little grin makes it go away.
.
.
.
She hates the dark.
But then again, she hates a lot of things.
She hates the stench of desperation because it hovers around her and she
can't punch it to make it go away. She hates her scarlet hair because
that's why they chose her and she thinks it looks nice but that
doesn't mean it's not ugly, does it? She hates waking up after a few
hours of fitful nightmares and lying still, surrounded, in a silence
that terrifies her.
She hates the strong and she hates the weak
and she hates that the two are so painfully divided. She knows where she
fits in and she doesn't feel she fits at all.
When she hits
herself because that's all she can do really, she hates that he comes
and he comforts her with his stupid sweet laugh and she hates that she
doesn't push him away, but he told her he liked her scarlet hair and
that almost surprised her – almost.
She told him she hated living here, and he disagreed – he told her they weren't living,
and when she tried to argue he asked her why she even cared if she
hated it all so much, and she just wanted to slap that stupid little
grin off his face because it lights up everything around her and she
doesn't want to see what's really there.
She didn't though, she didn't slap it off his face, because he said he liked her hair and now she likes it too even if it is ugly, and instead of hitting him she lets him hold her and she almost smiles – almost.
Once
he told her she was strong and she almost kicked him, she really did,
but then he smiled his stupid little grin and she couldn't stop her lips
from answering those kind, kind eyes that never seem to feel the dark.
He
says he's escaping tomorrow and he'll take her with him if she'll just
say yes and this time she really does hit him and she's almost crying
because it's all just so stupid and why would she want to go with him
when he shocks her by pulling her into his arms which are as tired as
hers are, and she almost hugs him back – almost.
That
night, she says she's sorry for hitting him and if he'll let her, she'll
go with him. She doesn't see his stupid little grin because no matter
how bright his smile is, she knows it's not gonna make it through the
dark and all of a sudden she's crying and in his arms and laughing at
the same time because she knows that there is a darkness that one kind
boy's bright smile can't dispel and that almost makes her want to fight for him – almost.
And
then before she knows what she's doing she's holding his shoulders as
he hugs her and she's sure he's still smiling and right there without
even thinking, she almost kisses him – almost.
She can feel him smiling even though she can't see it and she wonders if maybe his light could break the darkness inside her and maybe if it did and she just can't see then eyes aren't as important as she'd thought they were.
Still, that doesn't mean she doesn't really hate the dark.
