Maverick claimed he would be nice, that he'd let me stay home today from school since it was my first time. He said I should've thanked him, that everything he does is for me.
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I should be turned off, revolted by him, especially now. But I'm not. I'm disgusted with myself and not because I actually fucking killed someone...
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But because I liked it.
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Put my ass in a psych ward and throw away the fucking key because I'm a fucking lunatic.
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I felt everything Maverick said to me yesterday; the breathing, the way it feels like killing yourself...I felt it. It was like I was under a spell, hypnotized by him. Then I realized the dude was choking on his own blood. It wasn't but a few seconds later that he began coughing it up. I mean, I was in shock, I didn't know what to fucking do.
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Then they told me if I didn't want to help with the clean up, then I had to watch. So I watched...and appalled myself a little more when I couldn't stop paying attention to how sexy Maverick looked while moving a dead body from one place to another.
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The entire evening just keeps replaying over and over again in my mind.
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"Your mom let me in...and I have to say...I can see where you get your looks from." Is the first thing Malachi says when entering my room, not bothering to close the door quietly as he kicks it shut behind him.
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I sit up in my bed, extending my arm out to point the remote at the tv, pausing the show Based On A True Story before I miss anything.
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"It's been a while since you've been here unannounced." I comment, tossing the remote down in front of me. "Although I'm surprised you actually used the front door and knocked."
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"I've felt real groovy today." He says before swiveling my desk chair around to face me and dropping down into it. "But I can't say the same about you. You've spent your morning not letting yourself. You're worried about why you enjoyed killing that man."
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My stomach sinks but I draw my eyebrows together and say, "You don't know anything, Malachi."
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"Oh come onnn, Lilliana..." He draws out the word. "You know me well enough by now to know that's not true."
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I roll my eyes. "Why are you here?"
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"To help, of course. Isn't that why I'm always here?"
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He tosses a baggie at me. It lands on the bed. It's full of pills...making me try my best not to smile in delight.
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"No need to thank me or anything." He waves a hand. "I just figured you drowning in your room isn't the best way to go about things, you know?"
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It wasn't but a minute before I had already taken two pills, resealing the baggie. "Where's Maverick?"
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"With his parents." He answers. "They had some dinner to go to." He quickly changes the subject. "But I wanted to ask you something; how does it feel to finally have hard proof that you're just as crazy as you thought you were?"
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"You're such an asshole." I scoff, shaking my head.
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"Blunt." He corrects me. "There's a very distinct difference, Lilli."
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"No, you're just blunt and an asshole." I correct him back.
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"I'm not one to argue with; my mind never changes."
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"Neither does mine."
Malachi grins. "Would you like me to take you to a psychiatrist, Lilliana? I'm sure if you tell them everything they'll get you all the help you need." I open my mouth to come back at him but he goes on. "Informing them of your crime would only be logical if you wanted to get locked up....which seems to leave you with a decision between two very difficult choices..."
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"Just shut up."
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"You can A; give in, accept and embrace who you are. Or B; kill yourself." He shrugs, leaning back in the chair. "Either way, we're not very patient."
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"You clearly didn't come here to help. Not to mention, you two didn't give me the chance to fix whatever is wrong with me. You guys took that option away rather quickly."
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"Well I'm not the one who forced this on you, am I?" He asks, still amused by the conversation. "I'm just here to relay the truth, as usual."
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He's full of shit and acts like I'm not aware of it.
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I scoff. "Don't act all innocent. Maverick never acted weird or told me anything until after I met you at your party. I'm not dumb enough to think you had no part in everything that's happened."
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Malachi's smile is smug as he shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets. "You're smarter than you look."
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I give him a glare. "I know what Maverick wants...to be with me forever. This way he can make sure of that. But I don't know what you want."
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"Who says I want anything, Lilliana?" He cocks his head to the side.
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"You've been real with me thus far. Don't start beating around the bush now." I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.
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Malachi shrugs, moving his head upright and glancing around the room as if he hasn't been in her before...without me knowing. I'm sure with how weird he is, he gave himself enough time to know every detail about it.
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"Like I said; I'm here to help." He repeats, not giving any other bit of detail to back that up.
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"Other than giving me drugs a few times...I don't see how." I reply bluntly, which he was probably expecting.
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"You were any day away from killing yourself." He admits, his tone more serious now. "I gave you pills, a stranger, and you took them without even asking what they were. Maverick kills because it makes him want to kill himself less, he told you that."
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Malachi pauses, as if contemplating rather or not to continue. His hands move around in his pockets, making me realize that he is actually...nervous right now? A serial killer, one that lacks any type of emotion, is fidgety?
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After a sigh, he says; "I may have suggested to Maverick that he should involve you, that it might give you a purpose too." His eyes look up at me through thick eyelashes. "It sounds crazy but I think you already know it makes sense. You feel it; the drive, the power, what will keep you alive longer."
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I look down at my hands, feeling put on the spot and insecure about admitting he's right.
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"I know I told you when we met to let me know when you were ready to crawl out of your hole..." his eyebrows come together in thought. "But something told me you didn't want out. And I was right. If I didn't make the move, no one was going to."
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So it was Malachi's idea, all of this was.
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It doesn't take away from my feelings towards Maverick, me thinking it was him who decided to 'save me', to 'better my life.' A part of me found Maverick's decision...romantic, that he had conjured up a grand plan to keep me with him, to improve my quality of life. A part of it still is romantic to me, that he took Malachi's advice.
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But this changes how I thought Malachi viewed me; as some depressed, worthless little girl that he could give a hard time for fun. I knew before that he understood me and the way my mind works, but I thought he was using as ammo to taunt me. Now it feels like Malachi does want to help, that there's a part of him that genuinely cares about me.
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"That's absolutely insane." I find myself telling him.
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"Yeah, I know."
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"Why do you care what happens to me?" I question. "It's not like we even knew each other when you gave Maverick that idea."
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The corner of his lips rises a bit, the mood lightening in the room. "I'm a good guy."
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A laugh escapes me. "Yeah, okay."
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A knock sounds on my door before it creeps open. My mom's head slowly peeks from around the door before fulling entering, knowing she's safe.
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"Sorry to interrupt." She says sweetly with a smile, freshly manicured hand still holding onto the door handle. "I'm going to meet your dad for dinner, okay? He's already pissed I'm late." She lets out a dismissive sound. "If you need anything just call me." She offers, like she truly gives a shit. This is all because I have company.
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Before I can reply, she looks at Malachi. "It was nice to meet you, Malachi." She then blows me a kiss before exiting and shutting the door behind her.
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Well that's was fleeting.
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"She doesn't care much about what you do, huh?" He asks, glancing the way she left before back at me.
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"No." I answer, unbothered.
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"I'm a twenty five year old man." He chuckles, standing from his seat and going over to my window. "A serial killer too." He adds with a look back at me. "I would've never let me in this house." He finishes as he pulls apart the blinds with one hand, peeking through them.
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I throw the blankets off of my legs, laying it to the side as I climb out of bed. "What are you doing?"
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"I was just checking to see if she was really going to leave without offering you any dinner." He mumbles, staring out the window a moment longer before turning back around to face me. "And she did."
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This wasn't unusual for my mother to do. If she has anything planned during a time she should be taking care of her kid, that's always more important...even if it means not whipping something up for me to eat before she goes to sit down at an expensive restaurant with my dad. She doesn't know I'm not really sick; a bowl of chicken noodle soup and crackers or any meal that's easy on the stomach would have been appropriate.
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Typically, I don't think anything of this. You get used to it after so long. But it being pointed out by someone who is foreign to how your household works...yeah...that's kind of embarrassing.
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I tend to forget how little interest my mom has in me unless she gets to play the 'best friend' role. I know she was probably happy as hell when I fully became independent.
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"My father put a lock on the outside of my bedroom door so he wouldn't have to fuck with me. Mom was too busy fucking for money to care."
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I stare, taken back by him sharing anything about himself with me, especially something like that.
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"Why did you tell me that?" I ask
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"So you won't be embarrassed of your mother." He answers nonchalantly, like he doesn't really care.
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I'm at a loss for words, standing there and dumbly looking at him from across my room.
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Suddenly I stop being selfish and it's replaced by a sadness for Malachi. To think anyone could ever do something like that to their kid is beyond comprehension. What was he doing in his room while locked away? Was he crying? Playing? Did he stop begging to be let out after realizing this was his 'normal'?
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He pulls his sweatshirt up over his head, tugging it off by the neck of it. He rakes his finger through his hair as he tosses the sweatshirt over the back of the desk chair.
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"Now let's get you something to eat. You look like you haven't had anything in days." He jokes.
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Malachi ordered us pizzas, salads and a two liter of Pepsi. He even went downstairs to get napkins and fill glasses up with ice, pouring both of our drinks.
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He was right; I hadn't had anything to eat in days. I didn't realize that until the first bite was swallowed. After that, the pizza and salad stood no chance against me. I ate the first slice in five bites.
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Sometimes I loose track of when I've eaten, drank water; normal, daily things. The drugs take the appetite away. Don't let anyone fool you; a blunt on top of pills causes more waves of nausea than hunger, but you get used to that. My body is weak and I'm damn near brain dead at the sweet age of seventeen. I have no mercy on me.
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"How do you want to kill yourself?" Malachi asks me after finishing a bite. He sits across from me on the end of my bed, right leg hanging over the side and the left one folded in.
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"You're really asking me that?" I ask in between chews, setting my pizza down and grabbing a napkin.
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"What the fuck else are we gonna talk about?" He chuckles.
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I give him a duh look and say in a tone that matches; "You could ask me what movies I like. You could ask what I like to read. Literally anything."
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Malachi grins in a satisfied way. "You like horror movies a lot, documentaries. But you'll also watch a cheesy romance that no one's heard of or likes. And the reality shows..." He gives a disapproving look. "Who watches something like that to go to sleep? It's very unsettling, Liliana."
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I fight the urge to laugh.
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Does he still stalk me?
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Shaking his head, he continues. "You like to read everything, not having a favorite genre in particular. You annotate the fuck out of your books with sticky notes. Pink is for your favorite parts. Yellow are questions you have. And green is for important parts to remember."
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"Those aren't even written on, Malachi. How would you possibly know that?" My eyes widen in shock.
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He gives a shrug. "I can just tell."
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"And me watching reality tv is more unsettling than you knowing those things about me?" I pick up my drink, taking a long gulp as I wash the pizza down.
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"Well I never said that." He chuckles. "Now answer me; how do you want to kill yourself?"
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I put down my glass and grab my salad, shaking the packet of dressing before tearing it open. I give him a shrug. "I always just figured I'd overdose and die."
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When a long few moments pass without Malachi's response, I peer up at him to find that he's already staring at me.
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When he still doesn't say anything, I swing my arms out to either side of me, lucky to not drop the dressing. "What?" I finally ask.
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"You eat like a pig, Lilliana."
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