☆Deathbringer☆

When I go home, Glory's car is parked at the side of the house. I try to get in as quickly as possible, but she gets out immediately, telling her driver to go back.

Well, I'm dead.

"Hello?" Her hair is up into a ponytail. She is thinner, dark circles under her eyes. That's not good news. My anxiety turns into worry, and I open the door for her without a question. She comes in.

"You got thinner. Are you okay?"

Glory doesn't look at me and sits at the couch, her lips firmly pressed together.

"No."

Me, neither.

Glory's holding on to the door to support herself, looking at me with a look of betrayal. I really don't know what to say to her. What to do. It's just too confusing and too bundled that in the end I'm just standing there, hating myself.

Glory's eyes are gazing at the stairs below. "If you're going to walk the other way when I'm around, I want to cancel all the words I said to you. I don't like you anymore. Laugh it off as a joke, do whatever you want."

So much pain in her voice. And why? Because I can't figure out things on my own. In my efforts to help her I seem to be slowly killing her.

"I don't want us to be in this-- uncomfortable situation." Then she looks at me, staring into my eyes like she's daring me to say something. "Or am I one of the girls you throw away after you get a confession from them?"

God. No. I wish I could, but no. Never you. 

You're hurting other people by just standing there doing nothing because you're actually afraid to do something. You're hurting Glory, her dead father, and so many more people. What are you actually planning to do? Keep rejecting Glory, but keep being selfish enough to stay at her side, and act like an innocent person you're not?

Damn Greatness and her honesty. I know I shouldn't keep doing this, that I should send Glory home. Tell her I don't want to be friends again. Or just straight up confess. But I'm too scared to do either. 

I throw my backpack to the floor, looking away. Silence. I don't know what to say.

"You're a jerk," Glory spits out when I don't say anything. "Don't-- don't treat people like they're something you can play with. What am I to you? Just another one of your trophies you wanted to show off to others?"

I can't stare at her, so I stare at her hands instead. They are clenching into a fist. "Why do you do it, anyway? You know it when people like you, and yet you play with their feelings and once they give you what you want you just throw them away. I should have realized it, I should have told you when we were in middle school. I hate it when you do it."

DO SOMETHING! I'm shouting to myself. Stop hurting her. 

Stop thinking about everything and just do something, like Greatness said.

Glory is breathing heavily. Then her voice softens, and it's worse, the exhausted, vulnerable voice. "Say something. Please."

I should tell her to go home, that I don't want to do anything with her.

It would make her cry for a few days. Maybe a few months. But she'll heal. She even has her drama friends now. She can date Starflight, if she really likes him. She'll forget me and I'll move away to somewhere, a place where I can't hurt her.

I should let her go.

"It happened before-- before I met you." 

Then I suddenly realize I want to keep holding on. It's like logic is fighting what I really want to do. And if the fighting will keep on hurting her, why shouldn't I just accept everything?

I want to tell you, Glory. 

I want you to know me.

I want to unleash this little monster inside little by little and see your reaction. I'm sorry. I'm so selfish and I know. I should let you go, but I keep holding on. Tearing you to pieces. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I just can't bear the thought that you would hate me if you didn't know. Although you would probably hate me more when you do.

"What?" Glory looks at me, frowning. I slowly walk towards her and sit beside her, leaving a little space between us. "What are you-- talking about?"

"The women." It's cold, terribly cold, and I'm selfish and I hate myself but my mouth is just moving on its own. "I was taken to some place by my father, and there were a lot of women there. They did stuff to me."

A pause.

The hands, the eyes, the voices, the smiles. I remember everything like it happened yesterday. Like they're in this room, even though I killed them all.

"They kept whispering they liked me, and they kept touching me. I was really young. It would last for-- for hours."

"Oh my God." Glory's blocking her mouth with her hand. "Oh my God, Deathbringer. What-- what the--"

"It continued before someone came to rescue me. For weeks I wouldn't let anyone come near me, except the woman that saved me. I did horrible things to try to forget it." Things you can't imagine. "I--I--" I killed your father, Glory. 

But they don't come out. 

Glory is listening quietly, and I'm too scared to look at her.

"I try to stop it, but when I see girls, when they tell me they like me, I just-- I can't help but remembering." A deep breath. Tears are stinging my eyes and I can't cry, not in front of her. I should always keep this perfect mask on before her. So she can never see this weird-- this horrible person inside. But it's slipping and once it slips it just breaks entirely. "Maybe I know they like me, but I don't want to lose the friendship, and I always hope that they don't tell me their feelings because it would ruin everything. Selfish, I know. And then at middle school I kind of started dating to see if it would help get over some things, but it always came back. But I know I hurt them, I hate myself for it. I'm sorry."

Glory takes my hand, and it's warm, so warm and so comforting that the roaring waves inside me are calmed in a second. 

I'm digging my right hand into my palm, holding everything in so I don't cry. What am I doing? Am I doing the right thing, telling her? What if I'm just moving the pain to her shoulders? 

"You should have told me," Glory says quietly. "If I knew-- I wouldn't have told you my feelings. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Deathbringer, I should be the one that should apologize. I didn't even know, and I kept hating you, spitting out hurtful words when you-- you went through all this--"

Don't cry don't cry don't cry. Please don't cry, Deathbringer. "It isn't your fault, Glory. I should have told you before, but I was--too scared you would hate me."

Glory shakes her head. "Why would I hate you?"

You have no idea.

Suddenly, my shoulders are shaking, and sobs are escaping my mouth. I block it with my hand, trying to block it, trying to erase everything. "I'm sorry, I think I should-- go to the bathroom or something."

Glory suddenly wraps me around with her arms. God, I don't deserve this. I'm a monster. It's so warm and comforting that it's something I don't-- can't-- deserve. And it's so painful, telling her the truth knowing that she'll hate me for it later. It's so confusing and hateful that I can't do anything but try to stop my tears. 

"Deathbringer, cry if you need to. Crying isn't weak. Remember the night I suddenly showed up at your doorstep when I was crying?" Your crying isn't my crying. You're someone letting something go because you're strong enough. I'm crying because of guilt. It's sinful, it's dirty, it's horrible. 

"And maybe I'm selfish," Glory continues on. "But I really liked it when I cried with someone. Like the pain was disappearing and I was letting go of everything. I was so afraid that you would be annoyed or something, because a lot of people would be, but you just-- you comforted me. And it's my turn to be there when you need me, right?" 

She takes a deep breath.

"So don't cry alone, Deathbringer. Cry with someone, tell them how you feel, don't try to be perfect all the time. Let your mask slip once a while with people you can trust. Just lean on their shoulders like they leaned on yours when they needed it."

There is silence.

Should I tell her? Show her what a monster I am?

"Glory." How much of my sufferings can you take without breaking yourself? "Glory." My voice is getting louder and louder. And suddenly I'm gripping her shirt, tears in my eyes. A monstrous smile on my face. "I don't deserve to cry. I can't cry. Do you know why?"

Yes, tears are dripping in my face, and for some reason I'm smiling. Laughing at how the gods have created me.

I'm sorry, Glory.

"What do you— Deathbringer, I—"

I'm gripping her shoulders, and my breaths are coming out unevenly. How disastrous. Countless times I have read assassin books, where the assassins fell in love with their target and how they were forgiven so easily. How their murders were so easily forgotten.

Why must reality be so cruel?

"Glory, I killed them." I'm whispering in her ear, that smile on my face, tears dripping. I'm a mess. I really am a mess. "Do you get it now?"

I cant see Glory's face, but she stops talking.

I'm so amused for some reason that I have to force myself to not laugh. Yes, they must be in this room right now, punishing me for what I did to them. Making me fall in this girl, the girl whose father I killed.

At that point the murders seemed justified, but because of that murder I had destroyed someone's life. But was there a way that I could get out of there without killing?

I tell myself that it wasn't possible. But maybe it was.

My shoulders are shaking, but my voice surprisingly comes out clear:

"I slit their throats."