I am a murderer.
When Colin and I arrived to my house, guilt writhed in my stomach again, and I couldn't fight it off but I couldn't ignore it. Colin had his arms around me the entire flight home and he had whispered supportives into my ear, which just made me want to cry again but no tears fell. I'm used to the pain, the emotion.
The house was dark, drunk on silence, along with Colin and I.
The first thing I did was go into my room. I allowed Colin to shower, because I'm almost sure he hasn't in a week or so. But that's just how Olympticons are. They barely have time to breathe everyday. Lucky for us enchantresses, though, we aren't nearly as busy as them, which kind of surprises me. We learn about magic and fighting and shit, while all Olympticons really need to know is Olympian history, fighting, and...yeah, that's about it. Not to mention we are the main targets in warfare, which hasn't happened for years and I pray it never will. Tonight was painful enough. I can't imagine coping with days of enemies, slowly fading into weeks and then months.
I changed back into my pajamas, not daring to look in the mirror. How will I ever look at myself again? I want to believe I'll get over my father's death in the future to come, but it's not as easy as I want to make it seem. Forgetting him is hard as hell. It's not like I have any other parents to look up to, either. My mother is dead, and though Eric offered himself to me, to be my guide, I have to politely refuse. I like being independant and I always have. Living on my own for two months won't hurt anyone now, would it? I will stay at Swords and Dust next year...maybe.
As thoughts of Eric make my brain foggy, I am slowly starting to realize why he likes me, and hates Colin.
He likes me because my father was his 'friend'. They've known each other since high school, and besides, Eric and I are much similar, though it probably doesn't seem like it. We are both serious, we both love gore and horror, but we hate to see our loved ones lost, which explains why Eric probably didn't show himself during my father's killing. A part of Eric still felt connected to him somehow. I don't really blame him. I can't blame him.
He hates Colin mainly because he is overprotective of me. Colin and Eric are almost polar opposites (in fact, I think they are) and Colin's mother is Courtney, the nurse. Courtney seemed to be fond of Tris, and Eric hates Tris. Why? That I will probably never find out because I know that these people: Tris, Four, Eric...they aren't the same people from the trilogy. For the first time I say, the trilogy is fricken wrong.
I also know why Vincent chose to kill Mike and Scott in the car. He didn't want me around. He didn't want me around, only because he knew he couldn't kill me as easily. I'm an enchantress. I would have escaped and phoned the police the minute he slid that last ounce of alcohol through his lips. I bet he was planning the kill for a long time, and the night I met Eric was the night he did it, the night he wanted to. I wasn't gone for that long. I had been right.
I am a victim.
My father nearly killed me tonight, and I can't do anything...I can't do anything to change that. So why can't I just accept that it's all over?
I finally get the nerve to peek at my reflection, and this is what I see: a fragile teenager who wanted nothing more than to live a fairytale. She never asked for this. All she wants is to have her memory erased. She doesn't want this anymore. She wants to forget everything that happened in the past two nights. She doesn't care what it takes, what she has to sacrifice, the price she has to pay.
I swallow hard and crack my jaw, knuckles, and neck. Snaps and pops last for about a minute. Cracking my joints used to be a habit for me and something I felt I had to do. I hadn't even thought of it until now.
I drew the covers to my bed and fluffed my purple pillows...purple.
Goddamnit, the color sucks now! I wanted to turn away again, when an idea popped into my brain. I smirked, and jabbed my bed, touching the satiny sheets. Where my finger had been, there was a print of bleached white, which spread throughout my bedding, bordered by silver glitter.
It took about three minutes of listening to the hum of the shower down the hallway for the violet to be permanently erased from my sheets...yes, permanently.
My clothes still lay in a heap on the wooden floor of my bedroom, so I stiffly picked them up and started down the dark hallway (The dark doesn't even scare me anymore.) to the hamper, before I paused. The hamper is in Vincent's room...the man that I thought cared.
I breathed in, and quickly rushed into the room without turning on the lights, and tossed my clothes in the hamper, which was located in his closet.
This is where I first engaged in conversation with Eric…
Don't think about him! Don't think about Vincent! Don't think about shit, because you don't have time for shit!
I stood in a daze, peering into my poison-ivy eyes and hearing only the buzz of the fan I had decided to turn on. My song "Like Love Like War" I had decided to quickly finish, scrawl down phrases of descriptions that happened in the last two days onto the notebook paper. For a quick song, I felt it was pretty good, and I did shed a few tears while reading it through. I had done a good job.
"Cyclone."
I turned to face Colin, my head still supported by my elbows and my weight still shifted on one hip. My room was lit only by my golden lamp, so Colin's skin looked tangerine. Strands of his wet hair looked like find threads of bronze.
"What?" I asked, my voice sounding weak, like it would break at the slightest incision of agony.
"Nothing," Colin shrugged and invited himself in, plopping down on my bed, "You doing alright?"
"I have a favor to ask of you," I responded, wanting to rush things along. I had turned back to staring at myself in my mirror, seeing Colin only out of the corner of my eye, looking serious...for once.
"Anything for you," I heard Colin's feet hit the floor and soon he was behind me, his hand on my back. It felt hot where he is touching me.
I sighed and turned to face him, looking truly into his eyes so he knew I was deadly serious, "Can you erase my mind?"
Colin's forehead creased as he knit his eyebrows, "Oh Eris-"
"Please," I whispered, "I can't bear this guilt anymore, Sunshine. I need help and you're all I have now. I know you've been working with telepathy and all that stuff in school, and I'm sure you know some kind of spell."
"I don't know if I want to do that," Colin admitted, sighing, "Do you really think that's the best way to go? I mean, every moment that happened, starting to when you first met Eric, and ended to where we left the Dauntless compound, would be erased from your mind."
"That's exactly what I want," I replied, tears welling in my eyes again, "Colin, if it can be like these last two nights never happened, I'll be me again."
"What if your friends bring it up?" Colin asked, "Britt and Quinn?"
"That's why I text them beforehand," I said, suddenly remembering my phone is on the charger. I picked it up, and sure enough, I had about 35 text message notifications, 27 of which were spams from Britt and Ashley.
Colin grinned and rolled his eyes, "I can try."
"Oh thank you so much!" For the first time in what felt like ages, I grinned, showing my teeth and throwing myself into Colin's arms and wrapping mine around his neck. Colin laughed and hugged me back.
"Alright," he chuckled, "I never said it would work."
"I don't care," I replied, my voice muffled in in his white T-shirt, "I honestly don't care. I honestly don't give a damn."