The Secret Magic of Little Red Strings I

The post-humours screening should have been quick. “No, there’s nothing wrong with my bile. No, no contact with demons. No, I don’t feel unluckier than usual. Yes, I’m absolutely sure about the demons.” Not that her answers changed his diagnosis.

“Entropy. I’m shura it.”

His tongue clicked disapproval every time something moved in the corner of her eye or an object clattered to the ground. “Gud thing I caught it ‘fore it grew roots. We’ll git it outta ya lickety-split.”

Storms crackled with every step as the address collected lint in her pocket, stale unread.

The world insists I’m supposed to be a unicorn or a dragon or whatever mythical creature I’m assigned, but those artificial skins never seem to sit quite right.

Like a horse with an ice-cream cone stuck to its head, I’m pretty sure I’m at least half-real; like a plant, I’m two parts water, one part photosynthesis; like a human, I have a heart — not that anyone laughs when I say so.

Fitted skins and funny are reserved for the marketable.

Rose arrived, orphaned on the wind. The King of Briars, taken in by blushing petals blown askance, bestowed upon her a gift of his making. And though all knew the beauty of her bloom, none forgot the prick of her thorn’d crown.

My therapist says my homework is to keep a journal and write down my feelings throughout the day. I FEEL like this is stupid.

Saw a girl. Is that a feeling?

ANGRY.

Upset. I texted my mom asking if I could go home because I started crying in class randomly, and she said I needed to stay and figure it out myself.

She made me smile.

Nights are the worst. Dawn will never come.

Her name’s Sylvia.

Fuck Brad Turner. Fuck everyone. Why am I even here?

I cried again. This isn’t helping.

SHE KISSED ME?!?!

I can’t stop thinking about her.

Sylvia ❤

Every time I think about her, something lights up.

Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia Sylvia

I [can’t] won’t live without her.

Edric,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I'm not coming back.

---

Edric,

I lied about everything. Don't look for me.

---

Edric,

I'm not good at farewells. You're the only person I've ever wanted to say goodbye to, but I don't know how to do it. I write this as you drool in my lap, and it feels like I have rocks in my stomach. I know I won't get it right, but I owe it to you to try anyway.

Gods, your breath smells like hell.

---

Edric,

I never wanted this. I never wanted you.

That's a lie. I never wanted to want you, and there are things I want more than you.

---

Edric,

I'm a selfish asshole trying to figure out the best way to break your heart and too cowardly to do it to your face

---

Edric,

I'm pregnant. I can't be a mother. I can't be a wife. When I said someday, I thought there was time. I thought maybe you'd change your mind or we'd get killed doing something stupid.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know what the right decision is. I don't even know if I've made a single right decision in my whole life. You'll never read this anyway.

---

Edric,

I don't know what to say. It never comes out right, and I put off leaving until I get can get it out. You know I'm not good at being open. It's easier not to care, and I still keep trying to do that, even with you.

---

Edric,

I'm leaving. It's something I have to do.

---

Edric,

Every letter I write, I keep trying to find the best way to say what I need to, and it isn't working, so here it is.

I'm leaving.

I'm not coming back.

I don't love you the same way you love me.

I might not even love you at all.

I want to do things with my life that I can't do if I stay with you.

No, you don't have a say in any of this.

No, you aren't going to catch up with me and change my mind.

Yes, I mean all of it.

Yes, I'm a monster.

You're better off, trust me.

Orcen Caremn

Postscript: You'll have your someday - just not with me.