Author's note: Dark themes ahead (non-con, abuse, self-harm), please read at your own discretion. The writing was inspired by a few works in this site that show an alternative, darker side of our heroes. This work in no way tries to romanticize the abusive, violent behavior depicted.

November 14th. Midnight, lost in thoughts.

Because I love you, I want you to save me.

Please gorge me, pull me out of my mind. Better yet, deliver me from my misery.

End it now.

These tangling sensations won't stop me from committing well deserved harm, and you know how useless I am to help myself with anything anymore… with these oh so dissident and guilty pleasures. And it's all because I can't see, I can't feel.

You, it's always you.

-x-

Our dinner time:

"Hey, why aren't you eating? That fish won't taste the same once it gets cold. Hmm! See? I got it right this time."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well… you know we can't let anything go to waste. A girl your age needs all the proteins she can get. If you don't eat, you'll feel tired all night and then we won't get to do anything at all."

"Can you stop treating me like a child for like, two seconds? If you're hungry, here, eat mine. I don't need to shove the shit you make down my throat, it makes me sick."

"You sure are in a mood. I'm just concerned. I don't want you to have one of those break downs later… that wouldn't be a very nice thing to happen, and we talked about this before, didn't we?"

-x-

November 25th. This hand smashed the kitchen's clock back to its dusty origins, so time is unknown as of now. Can't judge by the position of the sun or whatever.

I hate you.

I despise you. I want you too, because I need you to live, to cry, and to start breathing and heaving until my system shuts down after one of my long screaming fits. And yet your strong arms are a sweet life support.

I very much loathe the thought of us, my love. And it's never enough, taking nor hating you. You just can't resist making me adore you so.

And I always forgive you.

-x-

Our disagreements:

"Get the fuck away from me!"

"Bulla…"

"Don't— touch me! You really can't see it, can you? You're insane, so-so-out of it! Nothing's gonna change, nothing you do is going to make you, me, us better! In fact, I hope it gets really fucking worse and this bullshit universe implodes!"

"Stop saying those things, okay? Look –stop thrashing— give me that. Listen, the house will be next to nothing if you don't calm down. I know you're mad at me and—"

"Just leave me the hell alone!"

"Why are you being like this? You know I can't do that."

"Why? Oh right, there's nowhere else to go. But it's that simple… just walk out of my life, leave me alone here. I never asked for this, I never meant to—"

"I only want you, Bulla. I only want us to be happy."

"You have no idea of what you're saying… You don't mean that."

"I do! I love you, silly. I love you so much."

-x-

December 8th. It's dark outside already. Currently freezing my ass in the cold plastic bathtub.

Sometimes death likes to play. It leans and blows upon my skin like a gentle lover. Those are days in which blood won't mind at all to run freely like a stream down my arms, my pale hands. But you don't know about those days, you've never taken the liberty to ask, because you're a nice guy and you don't want to take a peek into my personal hellhole if you can help it. Sometimes when I lash out at you, you turn into a scared kid. Why so ashen? You are perplexed. Do you really not notice? I don't care. I'm elated at the relieve it brings… nothing's ever felt so damn good than cutting.

I need to cut, cut, cut…

-x-

Your touching concern:

"You look very pale."

"I've always been super pale. Being tired doesn't help. Why, do I look hideous?"

"No! You still look very pretty. I just wonder why you've been looking so pale lately. Are you feeling alright? Should I get you some medicine?"

"I just told you. Haven't been sleeping well, though it's not like you don't know."

"Then, uh, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Nope."

-x-

December 31st. He thinks I don't give the devil his due when in fact he gets away with murder.

I want you to notice how lovely I can be, since I am usually not, but would like to be. I want to explain like a mother does to her son how much of this is wrong, so you'd listen with a thoughtful expression darkening your boyish face, your lowest instincts at bay. Oh, but no worries or cares burden your soul, and you laugh me off like it's another one of my games.

You see, I don't play games anymore.

-x-

Your wrapped up treats:

"Wow… you really outdid yourself scouting out there. You got this for me?"

"Yeah, I actually got it about two months ago. I'd been thinking to give it to you on—"

"Oh. My. Kami. This dress is gorgeous, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I knew you'd really like it! Though I was worried it wouldn't fit you nicely. I don't really have a good eye for these things, and you've grown after all."

"But what are you saying? It's exactly my size, I can't believe it! You know, back then I'd totally wear one of these whenever I went out with all the cool boys, and daddy would get so mad—"

"Bulla hey, hey. Don't ruin the nice mood we're having today. Just go ahead and try it on."

-x-

January 6th. I'm in the cold bathtub, again, because we are fucked up.

I want so many things.

I want to be the sole reason a smile blesses your twisted, playful face, any day. But you should also know how badly my spirit trembles at the cunning tenderness of your hands upon my scarred, fragile flesh at night. How much longer, I say. As long as always, you reply. And as always, I break only to mend, over and over. And so my heart cries, it mourns for the lost numbness it was used to before you came along.

But you're always there to keep me awake.

-x-

My silent night:

"You're shivering."

"Well, duh. You turned down the heat."

"No, I didn't. The bed's not cold and I'm always warm."

"Guess it's just me, then."

"You've always been cold, Bulla. To me and to everybody else. But I've been helping you with that, haven't I?"

-x-

January 10th. Bedtime, before midnight, and I'm here beside you.

You never look down on me.

Insistently relishing my body, the dementia, the murderous curses whenever you make us one in a single, powerful thrust. Having a thing for the wrong and twisted games you play on me makes me cry. You've made me yours and only yours forever. Until forever, you promised.

If I had any around, I'd drink to your success.

-x-

My holy night:

"Bulla… come on princess… say it now."

"I—I can't—"

"Want me to punish you like last time?"

"I'm yours, always have been… always will. I want you so much! Please, make me—"

"Oh, I will. Look at us, we're so good together. You… are… all… mine."

-x-

I never expected you to be the most dangerous person I'd ever meet. I wish I had fallen dead that day. I wish for the past. How could you? I don't ask, but I do scream for both of us. And your joy, my demise. You smile down at me once more, swelling the agony.

I'd like to erase all traces of my existence one day.

-x-

January 29th. A long time ago I used to trust you. A long time ago we used to be friends.

I am all smiles and swift strides. My mouth runs a hundred miles per hour, but somehow, he keeps trailblazing after me.

"What? You haven't been on a date in that long? Not even with your wife—I mean, ex-wife?"

"I have—We did, it's just… after we got married, she started saying that we shouldn't spend what little money we had so carelessly, so you know, I didn't ask very often. We did have family vacations after she had the baby, though."

"Oh boy, must have been pretty boring, huh?"

He's never had to, but I force the frustration out of him anyway because hey, it's fun seeing strong men struggle pathetically to put their feelings into words. So, they had marriage problems, lots of them, just like mom and dad. Still, I thought they were pretty solid.

"You had babies with her and trained 24/7! What kind of life was that? Man, it's so lame to just be with one person for the rest of your life… did you ever try to fool around with someone else?"

A weird laugh leaves him as he rubs the back of his dark mane. Now I'm just being rude, he says. I swat his shoulder playfully and cling onto his arm. I keep prying about the failure his marriage was. He laughs at my silly impressions of bitter couples while I'm reduced to hiccups and hysterical giggles.

"You're funny. No, really. I thought this whole babysitting thing would be way worse. I could do this again, even if there's no training or reward in it for me."

"Oh yeah? What do you mean by worse?"

"You are spoiled and arrogant, just like your dad. I like you way more than I like him, though. Maybe because you inherited your mom's… ways. You're both so smart and so… free."

"She used to be. But these days? Mom and I are rolling in different orbits."

"I know. Why else would I be here with you, right? Anyway, you aren't like most girls, in that you're so much like her. Always one to take the lead. And you're much prettier than any other girl I've ever met before."

I reach out for the honey pouring into my ears, all his attention on me. I didn't know I could like it so much.

Maybe it's because of the gloomy weather, the alignment of the stars, or the thought of going back to the prison that is home, but I look over to him while offering my sweetest smile. And for a moment, he looks so young and so lost.

"Here's my hot take. You were too nice for your stuck-up ex-wife, and it's her loss that she decided to cut off ties with you."

A beat passes, two, five. Have I screwed this up? He smiles tightly as I let go of his warmth to lift my arms above my head and stretch nervously. We've stopped at the intersection that will take me home.

"We were supposed to go over your school day… you could tell me about your homework if you want, though I can't promise to be of much help."

"Yeah, like I need assistance to do it. And with you of all grown-ups."

"What's the matter? Do I bore you?"

"It's not that. You're sort of cool, but you're not exactly the brightest crayon in the box for schoolwork, no offense."

"None taken."

I could drown in the awkwardness. The sun will be down in an hour or two. I should go, but I kinda wish for him to take me someplace else. And because I can't stand silences, my brain blurts out a little piece of truth instead.

"I like you a lot more than most grown-ups I know."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're the only one who doesn't treat me like a baby when we talk about romantic stuff. I've kissed a lot of boys, dated some of them. Most people think I've had sex with all of them. But I haven't, I just mess around. There, I said it. See? You don't judge me."

"Why would I? It's natural to do that at your age, right? Besides, you're waiting for the special one."

"You make it sound so old-fashioned. I just want my first time to be right. I don't want to share that with a boy who won't know heads from tails. So, I'll wait. Am I weirding you out with this?"

"No, no, I understand. You know, I feel the same about being with someone else now that she's… gone. It should be someone special, like—"

"Whoa, so you don't think it's a little too soon to start dating? You had a wife a month ago, just saying."

"That didn't stop her from moving on! She was mad at me and wanted to be happy, so I guess I should be too! I want to be with someone who can understand, someone who'll stay with me, always. I don't want to just… date.

"Relax, I just think you should wait it out. But whatever. You do you."

I've run out of juice and things to say. With a sigh, I take a few steps backwards, but he's too fast. I feel his hand snatching my wrist and pulling me to him. I instinctively try to pull back in surprise. He's never been this close.

He smells like the earth and the sun combined. Like pine trees and freedom.

"Are you upset? I'm sorry, this whole thing is new to me. Hey Bulla? I'll make it up to you. I'll buy you ice cream if it brings up that pretty smile again."

I want him to regret his choice, so I consider dragging him to the mall. Instead, I just laugh. Both of his dark eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn't lean back. Wanna hear a secret? I say. And so I whisper into his ear my impulsive thoughts.

"So, you think I'm… attractive?"

"Remember the beach party? My friends were like, 'Oh Bulla, damn! Why didn't you tell us that your dad's friend was hot as sin?' You should have seen the look on their faces when I told them your age!"

I laugh some more, but he's suddenly turned so serious. Why is he acting so weird? Whatever, I'm tired of playing already.

"I don't care about your friends. You, you said you'd date me."

The fucked up part of teenage me seizes the opportunity to extend her ivy chains. I shouldn't let this happen, mom and dad would be so mad if they knew, a part of me insists, but I just want to see how far I can get away with it.

"My dad would kill you if he saw you looking at his little princess the wrong way."

"I'm not afraid of your dad and you know it. What about you, why would you tell me these things if you didn't want something to happen?"

"Come on, really? I didn't think you had it in you."

He's angry now, looking every bit dejected. In a moment, his warmth is gone and he's getting ready to shoot up into the sky. And I'm scared of never seeing him again. Of being alone. I don't wanna go home.

"Hey, where are you going? Okay, prove it then. We're here, we're all alone."

"Don't play with me like that. I want to know for real."

"You say you like me so much, then prove it! Show me. But you know this isn't serious, right?"

His face has never been so handsome and menacing under the flickering of the streetlights. How did it get so dark so fast? He steps closer until he's practically hovering over me. A part of my brain reels, but I delude myself into thinking a one, two, three-time thing won't hurt anybody.

"If we do this, you're never seeing any of those boys again. Not one of them."

"What are you talking about? Seriously, are you gonna act all jealous as if we were actually dating? We'll just be doing… stuff, then we'll continue with our lives as if nothing happened."

A simper crosses his features at my words, and a chill runs down my spine. I haven't felt this small, this excited in forever.

"You know I want more than that, I just told you. You'd be my princess, Bulla."

-x-

Catatonic lover, seedy prisoner, needy princess. Am I missing something?

Yes, you drown in my seas, all frustration and wants, and yet, you tried to make an honest woman out of me (you said so with a smile, turning from the floating ashes of my once home). That was a promise you couldn't keep.

-x-

February 15th. I don't know where I am. Time holds no importance now, it doesn't, really.

How did it come to this?

Hit me, bite me, forgive me. You've made me frightened, desperate, lonely, hateful, bitter, and yours so what else do you want from me? You've got me, and that's ok, just don't ask me to stop the bleeding, you cannot make me. Fuck you.

It hurts when you touch me, not always, but always a bit more when this loneliness I'm wallowing in hits home. And sometimes I just need to get away, don't you see? I have a right to it. This… this is my choice, the only damned thing I do for myself with my own bloodstained bare hands.

-x-

Our abnormal life:

"How could you… Oh no, you don't! Look at me."

"No, no, no. Let me go, let me go now."

"All this time, pretending to be a busy girl so you could do this? What were you thinking?"

"I'm still walking, breathing, and fucking you, so what does it matter?"

"It matters when you've been hiding things from me. You've been hurting yourself—"

"Go sell stupid somewhere else and take your hands off me! I'm not listening to your hypocritical bullshit anymore, ok? I'm not yours to take and fucking denigrate, you creepy son of a bitch!"

"Shut up, shut up you—"

"And you know what? For all your stupid talk of owning me, you're not my first and only one. So, you didn't know that, did you? It's because I fucking lied!"

"Don't push me…"

"How does it feel, when you know you can't always have control? Don't you feel betrayed? Or dumb as—"

-x-

Dim stars cross my sight as I lie on your bed, blood on my lip, skirt up my waist as you force your will on me. I can see it in your eyes, I will learn the lesson.

Now I promise to never, ever cut myself anymore. I am so sorry.

-x-

May 15th. It's finally noon.

I need to escape, to run away from him, from my lovely, reviled captor. And I know I have to now or else… But I don't know where I'm supposed to be really heading… the house is eerily cozy, and it makes me dizzy. He won't be away for too long. He knows I'll stay for now. I'm going, going, down and down out the rabbit hole… because it'll be only when I reach the bottom that I ought to be free.

My body will be because my mind has already left.

-x-

Our normal life:

"Hi baby, how are you doing?"

"Well, there's not much to do until the competition starts. I try to keep myself busy, do some stretches, practice a little. I'll have to be really subtle tomorrow though, and kind of keep my head down. I haven't decided if I should win the finals or not, I don't want them to know where I've been."

"That's smart. You can't let them find you."

"Yeah, but it's not that big of a deal, so don't worry about it. And well, sometimes I go out for a swim at noon, the usual. Hey, I miss you. I wish so hard you could be here with me, to hold you and kiss those pretty cherry lips."

"That's sweet. When are you coming back?"

"Tomorrow night! Why, need something from here?"

"I just need two things."

"Well princess, tell me so—"

"But right now, all I want is you."

-x-

July… or is it September? Either way, I feel peachy.

The way in and out, I've kind of been a visitor of every single room for the few weeks, months... I've been here...? Perhaps we've gotten along in years. Time's not been on my side lately, so I've estranged myself from it. It's just that I haven't found the real exit in any of my daily wanders… that oversized and luminous door beyond my doomed and forfeited destiny.

I must… find it, or else…

-x-

Your delusion:

"Hey, what's so funny?"

"I don't know, what do you mean?"

"You've had this smile all day since last night. I'm just glad you're feeling happy."

"I'm not happy. Don't get me wrong baby, I love you, but I gotta fake it till I make it."

-x-

November something… 14 something, who knows? I'm off to the races.

I'm being chased.

Turns out I found my way around the real door in a blue, holed wall in less than two fucking hours. I had never seen its existence before, and I suspect it wasn't a part of the house's silly décor. So how fucking disappointing is that? I was extremely angry and all I felt was the energy in my veins screaming. Next thing I know, there's a hole, and I'm so ridiculously weak I can feel my insides absolutely gross. It doesn't matter now, though. Nothing does when you run away. He's after me, I know, and I can't stop sprinting off to the green sea, a place I never thought I'd see again. He said I could visit it if only I behaved…. the hypocrisy makes me sick. He loved it when I resisted him. Just like now.

I need to run, run, run…

November 14th. Will you dream of us?

My escape:

"Do you think I'm gonna let you walk away like this?"

Not even in my dreams.

"Do you think I'm not gonna look for you everywhere? Remember the things I did to anybody who tried to keep you from me! I will find you, Bulla!"

Oh, I know you will.

But you've made me dead to them, nobody will come.

My pride, my courage: cleansed like bad manners are eagerly washed away, through teaching, because he taught me so much, hand in hand… and time, the many clocks I paid as a woman… things from a past I won't miss.

"You've really hurt me, Bulla! And I'm not gonna let this one slide so easily, you hear me? You better think really hard about what you're gonna do next!"

What indeed…

It's dark but I don't feel scared. Or cold, or anything you're supposed to feel when you are out there, all by your own, being hunted by the most powerful man you'll ever know. The one I love. I can sense him, and he pulsates concern, wanting, love.

"Bulla… Bulla!"

Love, he exudes love.

And I'm not worthy of anything anymore. Not of life, not of him.

I love him, but like I said, I've already come away.

"Bulla!"

It's funny how my mind is still rolling without care, my heart loyal to his eyes, my thighs still stained with droplets of his loving. I am so fucking twisted. My knees fall to the grass, hitting the rocks, opening old wounds.

It'll never be over. I will never be let go of.

I'm a ghost, but sometimes I feel so… Whatever.

I hope you dream of us.

And I hope you sleep forever haunted by our perfectly disturbing ending.

Epilogue

I lost to the wild and to the man.

I need my mom, my dad, I wailed. My brother, myself again, I screamed. But he suppressed me upon the earth. Restraining me from fading away.

I fought and cried and begged until he finally accepted our reality. He nodded many times. Then he just kept smiling at me the whole time. I kissed him hard for the last time. My gratitude, my revenge went there. I laughed as in the end, I was finally free.

He buried me in the woods, soaked in rust and bitter dew. No words were said. Maybe because it was no longer me. I was no longer there.

He screamed and made the heavens listen. Now he would be eternally lonely, cursing and blaming our gods for denying him death. And I lost everything.

Even him, my reviled hero.