It’s getting harder to breathe as the days go by. I know it has to do with the air becoming more venomous as time slowly continues to tick by, but that’s not the only reason.

I close my eyes tightly, then open them as widely as I can, blinking rapidly, and telling myself not to let them shut for longer than five seconds at a time. It makes sleeping difficult, but I’m managing somehow.

I don’t know if it’s by the grace of a god that lets us destroy ourselves, or if it’s sheer determination to reclaim what’s mine. The truth is far more horrible than I care to admit to myself, but I … I can’t let myself think about it, otherwise, I’ll just end up succumbing to this new slow death. It’s different from having to kill to stay alive, to gather stock for our cupboards, to love a man that I thought wanted me and no one else.

I fight a yawn as I flex my forefinger.

It’s a small blessing to know that I can still do something as miniscule as this. It reminds me I’m still a person and not whatever Bevie wants me to be. She’s so lost in her own rotten thoughts and choking on the haze of constant hate for me, I was so sure she’d kill me.

Pollyx talked her out of it.

She promised him she wouldn’t, and at the very least, she was finally able to keep her word for once.

But at what cost?

I’m afraid to be constantly alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. I worry that eventually my mind will decay as rapidly as hers has, and I’ll become like her.

But if I do, then maybe Pollyx will finally see me again.

I grunt in frustration as I try to move my ring finger, a minor comfort I used to provide for myself when he was out hunting. Before Beverly came into our lives and ruined everything. I would spend nights pacing the house, turning the ring on my finger and hoping he’d come home safe and sound.

And he always did.

I thought Beverly was a blessing when she came into our lives, but had I known then what I know now, I would have taken her out into the woods and tossed her to the dead and the dying. She could have fed them for a few days, maybe even a few months, but I didn’t because I loved her.

She never loved me.

A bitter tear rolls down my cheek, and I can’t even wipe it away. I don’t want her to know that I’ve been crying because it’s something I’m sure she would relish in. Being the better woman; the one that Pollyx chose over the other, but if he knew what she’s done to me…

Would he even care?

In the distance, I can see the sun rising. Another day of tortured silence and the knowledge that I’m nothing more than a tomb now.

My body … it fed on the only thing it could to keep me alive.

Beverly couldn’t have known that this would happen, could she?

I refuse to believe, even with all she’s put me through and done to me, that she knew something like this would be possible.

Inhaling a deep breath, I look to the window and watch the sun’s rays start to break over the horizon, wondering where in the world my husband could possibly be.

I wonder if he’s looking for me.

If he knows.

If he cares.

Pollyx always wanted a son, and I was almost able to give him one.

Until that little bitch turned me into … this. As the heat begins to seep through the open window, amplifying the radiation that still hangs over the land, I can’t help but hope that someday, somehow, he’ll figure out that Beverly killed his son.

Not me.

I didn’t have a choice.

My body wanted me to live.

And so do I.

 

 

 

 

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