Seventeen
I throw up in the kitchen sink when I get home. Then I lie down on the floor and consider never getting up again. Filigree doesn’t seem impressed, though. He shifts into gorilla form, carries me upstairs, and throws me, fully clothed, into my bathing room pool. A minute later, he scurries back through the door as a squirrel and drops a handful of nuts beside the pool.
I want to thank him, but I’m too tired to get the words out. I slowly peel my clothes off underwater. The ache around my neck eases, but I still feel shaky. I guess that’s what happens when your life is almost entirely drained out of you.
I wait until I’m dried, dressed, and lying on my bed before I let myself think. I killed someone. Again. That’s two someones in two nights. I breathe deeply and tell myself to g
