And I hated it.
Where there is colour, there is hope or something. Remember something like that. A stupid fucking flower that sure as shit didn’t belong in a shitty prison striving through dead soil, trying to live and those words.
And here’s Amy. All the colours of the rainbow, shining right there in front of me.
Where there is colour, there is hope.
Can’t have fucking hope.
Hope kills the darkness.
I was a stupid kid. Lonely. Needy for love. Lost. The idea that if enough people looked at me, I’d never need anybody’s attention ever again. That if someday I was caught and exposed, then I’d never be able to lie again. That if I could have all the money in the world, all the power, I’d never want to own or do another thing.
That if somebody loved me, I’d stop praying for love.
Now Amy’s looking at me like I’m a good man.
This world gave me shit.
We stand there, waiting for each other to give an inch.
‘I saw you with Diana. You were so sweet to her. It was like you peeled off your bitter skin and sweet-boy Shepherd was underneath . . . That’s what you did to show me you’ve got heart.’
Amy puts her trust in my hands because she can’t see the blood on them.
I don’t have soft hands, Amy. I have tentacles that rip things open.
‘Yeah, sorry, I must’ve missed something here. Lying to old people gives me heart? Because what you think you saw was all a lie. I was sweet-talking to get information out of her. You ever think that?’
While I cling to the past, the edge of a knife presses against my throat. Amy sighs, and me, I’m decaying under years and years of lies.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she says.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to ignore the way she stares at me. It isn’t a stare I find comfortable, even though I know it isn’t unkind. It’s the look a person has when faced with a crazy, wild thing. Something untamed, something unpredictable. Something that fucking terrifies them.
And my heart swells because it’s been all too long since I’ve seen that look. And Amy gets it. Even with just this tiny display of my prowess, she totally gets it.
She could tear this motherfucker down.
The girl I fucking love, the butterfly who makes hurricanes in my world.
‘Remember when Diana used to call you her little hero? In a way, you are. You’re helping her in her last days. I can see it.’
What I hear when she says that, is, ‘I believe in you.’
Then I tell myself I’m being stupid to even think I could be something special.
‘I wouldn’t go as far as that,’ I snap dismissively. ‘I’m not anybody’s hero. The kicker is, Amy, that no matter how much I play Pied Piper and take the hurt away from Diana, I’m still a heartless bastard. My intention isn’t to help her find the light, like you think it is. I’m doing it because I want something in return.’
Amy looks into me.
It always hurts to look at you.
The way she looks right now, you have to think about plane crashes. The way she looks, you’d have to think of massacres to not trigger, to not come in your pants. Think of rotten food and maggots and dog shit.
That’s how fucking beautiful she looks.
‘It’s not always easy to see the truth. And sometimes it’s harder to believe it, even when it’s right in front of you. Find your own truth, Shepherd. When you do, life will mean something. Maybe it’ll help you come to terms with your past.’
My blood boils in my veins. I don’t want or need anybody’s goddamn sympathy. Like a slingshot, I snap back to my default state. It’s how I survive from feeling real.
A hardened heart.
‘My past is none of your goddamn business, Amy. So stop shoving your nose up where it doesn’t belong.’
I look away so I can’t see her hurt, even though I’m the one who’s caused it. Nothing a man would want to see done to the girl he loves, right? Is that what she is? The girl I love? Or just the girl I'm willing to destroy my world to get back? Maybe it's the same fucking thing.
‘I want to understand you,’ she says. ‘You talk like a jerk, yet your actions contradict it. It’s just like what happened to us back in school. You were sweet as pie to me and then one day, just like that, you decided to hate me.’
‘Quit dissecting me. You’re trying to find something deep that doesn’t exist. I had good reason to hate you.’
I’m not the kind of man that needs coddling and special care. My heart won’t shatter into a million tiny slivers and my eyes won’t gush the goddamned Niagara Falls at her. That isn’t me.
‘In the last month, I’ve watched you visit Diana, time and time again, despite how torturous it is. I know you’re not a monster, Shepherd, so I don’t understand why you pretend to live without a heart.’
I never bargained for this. The only way a liar passes the test is if nobody looks close enough. Hell, Amy has me under a microscope. Nowhere to hide. My outside torn apart, the insides exposed.
Amy looking at me the way she is, I’m just a bug to crush.
‘You pretend to understand me. Okay, riddle me this, Amy. Why at fifteen was I imprisoned for armed robbery? Why did I even get into that state of mind?’
She staggers back like a ragdoll.
It tells me everything.
I. Scare. Her.
