The End of Everything
“I say. “It’s Evie. She called me.”
I practice the words over and over again. I say them into the dawn hours, fully dressed under my sheets, waiting for light to come.
I have it in my hand, the answer, the key, the way to end everything. Pete Shaw gave it to me. I just have to figure out how to use it. I have to figure out if I want to protect him, or if he even wants me to.
I choose to protect him.
In those minutes, that half hour after he gifted me in this way, well, I gave him... what I could and I don’t regret it.
It was just my hands on him and it was nothing but a kind of healing, a try at the laying on of hands.
Hearing the catch in his throat, the tight gasp, my hands there, I’d given him something, hadn’t I?
I know I could not heal it—the wound torn across him will always gape hollow, deathless, but I tried, I tried.MoreLess
I practice the words over and over again. I say them into the dawn hours, fully dressed under my sheets, waiting for light to come.
I have it in my hand, the answer, the key, the way to end everything. Pete Shaw gave it to me. I just have to figure out how to use it. I have to figure out if I want to protect him, or if he even wants me to.
I choose to protect him.
In those minutes, that half hour after he gifted me in this way, well, I gave him... what I could and I don’t regret it.
It was just my hands on him and it was nothing but a kind of healing, a try at the laying on of hands.
Hearing the catch in his throat, the tight gasp, my hands there, I’d given him something, hadn’t I?
I know I could not heal it—the wound torn across him will always gape hollow, deathless, but I tried, I tried.MoreLess
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