Prison Paradise Ep. 2

Wynter

December 25th

Merry Christmas to me. This is my first sober Christmas since I was eleven.

Imagine that.

Rico took pity on me and let me speak to Autumn for five minutes today. She sent me photos of Deuce and Rue. Then I was alone again.

But being alone and feeling alone feels much better than being surrounded by people and feeling alone. So I relish it.

It gives me time to make plans. Plans on how to make Richard Ayaan Alverez hurt as badly as he hurt me.

I’ve never killed someone before.

Well, that’s not exactly true, is it?

So, I’ve killed one person before. A tsunami in a sea of regrets that gets bigger by the minute, it seems. 

But my only victim deserves to have another by their side in the graveyard of Wynter.

After all, Rico, ever the wordsmith, has claimed I’ve “managed the once-mythical assertion that someone could ruin any and everything with a look. A modern-day Medusa, if you will.”

Why must I remember every single bad thing he’s ever said to me?

They’re like chains, weighing me down, keeping me in the prison of my mind.

And yet…

And yet when he does come in, to give me food, to watch me bathe, to check the scrapes and bruises turned scars on my skin, the only thing I feel is tenderness.

Because to be hated by Rico, I’ve found, is the same as to be loved by him.

A heady mixture of devastation and… tenderness.

This world would be consumed by the depth of how I feel for him.

I’m almost there, myself.

So the best thing, for the world, for me, would be to put me out of my misery.

By murdering the man who made me feel again.

Most of my time in this room while I’m awake involves accepting his fate and my role in it.

I leave the musings on my feelings to my dreams.

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A Thin Line Between Love and Hate by Wynter Snow

We tow the line every second

of every day.

whispering

bellowing

wanting

cursing

touching

striking

Our feet

are too big

for the line

One day,

we will fall.