Chapter Text
“This is just how I am,” she says. “You know this. You know how I am.” Her voice sounds calm. It has an edge of hysteria, but she’s learned to hide it as best she could by now. She smiles at him, sweetly. At this point he’s too young to know the difference between the sweetness of honey and the sweetness of rotten fruit. The one feels like a comfort, a cradle, alluring and indulgent. The other, sickly, repugnant, a warning. He doesn’t know which is which yet. He allows her to draw him in, to get into his mind. How could he know any better?
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“You know how I am,” she cries. “Don’t you know me?” Her wails grow louder with the second. It’s too much for him. He’s crying, but he stays quiet. He knows he would only set her off if he didn’t. He tries to hold his breath, calm down his heart rate. Maybe then she would stop. “Stop! Stop trying to change me! Why are you always trying to change me, why can’t I ever be good enough for you?” He doesn’t know. He hates himself for it. He wants to make her believe he loves her, that he doesn’t want her to change, that she’s good enough. He’s tried before, but she keeps saying he’s trying to change her, that she’ll never be good enough for him. If she keeps saying it, it must be true, right? The noise is just too much, and he can’t stop crying.
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“You know how you are,” she says, her hands on her shoulders. She’s smiling today, and he hopes it will be a good day. The sun is shining. Her voice sounds sweet (sweet like honey? sweet like poison?) “You can’t change who you are. Stop trying. Just accept the truth about yourself, sweetheart.” He swallows thickly. Maybe she’s right. Maybe he should stop trying.
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“You know how I am,” he says, years later, voice hoarse. Bile rises from his throat like acid. A monster. A demon. Cause of destruction. The bile fills up his mouth until it spills between his teeth out of his mouth. The black sludge streams down his face like blood, and he chokes on it.
“This is how you are,” their voices merge. Doomed. Inhuman. He destroys all he touches, and he poisons the air around him. “You can’t change how you are.” He wishes he could wake up. He also wishes he never had to wake up again.