Kat Dunn

Bitterthorn

Miryam 

Misery was a creeping thing, like the dew settling on grass or the cold fingers of frost meeting me in my bed at night and crackling the insides of my windows. I had longed to be left alone, to escape the lie of my family, only to discover this was a different kind of poison. Slow acting, but lethal. At first it numbed me, pleasure leaching from my days like a summer leaf draining of sap to greet the autumn. Then loneliness came, a creeping oily stain that stopped me from enjoying it at all.

She struggled with life as though it wasn't her natural home.

The only joy I found left to me was in bringing nature inside.

Mt father's voice, the way he bit his words, roused an instinctive fear in me and I slipped back outside.

Jump, don't jump. None of it mattered. I was done here.

"So confident, when you know nothing of me. Nothing of what you are walking towards."

I met her gaze, the beetle black eyes and blood red lips. "No. But I know what I am walking away from, and that is enough."

I had thought I could welcome death, but now it faced me I found myself a liar.

It wad the single most disconcerting feeling, like missing a step going down stairs, expecting solid ground and encountering only a lurching void.

My arm throbbed, and I felt suddenly foolish and ashamed of resorting to my childish violence against myself.

"Are you planning to have any bread with that butter?"

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