King of Mayhem - Dark Romance

Black smoke.

It’s thick and suffocating. An endless expanse that covers me like a thick blanket wrapping around my limbs.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t even move.

It swallows me whole, trapping me in my dark thoughts, caging me in darkness.

You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough.

Even when I try to banish those thoughts, they drum through my skull like a lullaby made for nightmares. My nightmares.

Depression.

That’s what the therapists have said I have. I take a small pill every day to save me from myself, and not even that works.

I’m my own destruction.

My downfall.

I’m fighting against my brain, and I don’t think I will win.

How can I when the black smoke won’t let me go?

I twirl my hands up above my head, swishing my hips from side to side. The Molly has kicked in. Everything feels heightened, as if my body is more sensitive to my surroundings. My skin tingles as the black smoke slowly leaves my body.

My first real breath fills my lungs, and I sigh. The only time I can outrun the smoke is when I keep my mind completely occupied by something else.

Tonight, it’s a rave. Tomorrow, I will be running until I vomit my lungs out. I can’t stay still, or the black smoke will consume me until there’s nothing left. If I have to keep running from myself, I will.

Purple and blue strobe lights flash across the space, lighting up my skin in a magical, serene way. Bodies grind against each other to the beat of the music, and everyone lets go, falling into this moment.

I shouldn’t be doing anything like this. I’m only seventeen, but the underground raves couldn’t give a damn. As long as I buy alcohol and their drugs, they couldn’t care less.

I take a sip of my Bacardi and Coke, feeling the burn slide its way down my throat. My vision gets hazy as the Molly courses its way through my bloodstream.

Sway.

Sip.

Sway.

I let the music carry me away, my hips moving in time to the bass ringing out in the air. The smoke can’t reach me, not until the morning, that is. In the morning, everything will come crashing back down, ready to suffocate me. Ready to consume me until I’m nothing but smoke filling the air.

Even with a hangover, I’ll run. It’s what I do best. I’ll push my limbs until they burn and my lungs ache. The black smoke can’t reach me as long as I’m doing something. As long as I’m running from it.

I twirl on the spot, letting my sparkling silver dress swish over the skin of my thighs. It’s a loose-fitting dress held up by thin spaghetti straps. It reaches my mid-thighs, and the material shines and glows under the flashing lights.

I feel like a fairy dancing in a magical garden with lights twinkling all around me. Except this garden is filled with sweaty, moving bodies. I’m going to imagine them as other fairies. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. I giggle to myself as I picture a life far different from this.

Once upon a time, someone I loved used to call me Snow White. I have deep red-colored lips with a slight blush that always covers my cheeks. My hair is long, silky, and black, just like hers. I can see the resemblance, I can. But I’m not her. There’s nothing magical about me.

I’m a mess.

A waste of space.

No, I can’t think like that, not now. The smoke will come for me. I feel the smoke creeping in from the corners, ready to suffocate me. I shake my head, trying to banish those thoughts. Not tonight. I’m not letting it take me tonight.

Sip.

“Sadie, I found you. I thought I had lost you for the night,” Cadin says.

Cadin is my only friend, well I think he is. I get the feeling sometimes that he’s only friends with me because he’s also an outcast like me. Cadin was born and raised in Italy. I guess it’s better to be an outcast with someone else than it is to be one alone.

I live in Italy now. I moved here with my dad five years ago. I left America behind and didn’t look back.

That’s a lie.

Okay, so maybe that is a lie. I still look back at my old friends over Instagram. It’s not on my actual account. It’s an account I made with no profile picture or followers. I don’t want them to know I’m stalking them like a creep that doesn’t have a life. I left without saying a word to them, and I still feel guilty about that.

They hate you.

They do hate me. I would hate me. Scratch that. I do hate me.

“Let’s dance,” I yell over the music.

I’ve never had to worry about Cadin hitting on me. He swings for the other team, and he is proud of that. So he should be. It makes perving on other guys a whole lot of fun.

“Hell yeah.”

Cadin and I dance and drink till I know the sun is about to rise. You can’t see the outside world in here. It’s like you’re lost in another time zone. But I know it’s been hours if the small burn in my limbs is anything to go by.

I need to get home before my dad realizes I’ve snuck out for the night. It’s not the first time he’s caught me sneaking out, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. He knows my habits now, which isn’t a good thing. If he finds a way to stop me, he will.

“I’m going home,” I call to Cadin over the music.

With a slight stumble in my steps, I make my way out of the building to the curb to wait for a cab. I wrap my arms around my waist as the chill of the night washes over my skin. Goosebumps line my flesh, and I wave down a cab driving past.

It’s only a matter of time before the black smoke starts to creep in. I slide into the cab and give the driver my address. My house is pretty far away from the club, and I sigh as the driver takes off.

After a while, we arrive at my family's mansion. The outside is made of white concrete with brown shutters adorning the windows. It’s a seaside property with a huge vineyard out the back. It could easily house eight people, but it’s just for us: my dad and his new wife, Sandra.

I ask the cab driver to park halfway down the driveway, and I walk the rest of the way up. My heels struggle against the gravel, but I manage to stay on my feet.

Instead of going through the front door, I head to the side entrance leading to the kitchen. Our house staff will be up in a bit, so I want to get inside before they do. The last thing I need is for my dad to find out.

I take my heels off and hold them in one hand before I open and shut the door softly behind me.

“Sit down, Sadie. We need to talk.” My dad’s low voice echoes around me, and my stomach drops.

Shit.

Looking across at him, I nod my head. I’m screwed. He’s going to give me one of his lectures that will sober me up. The smoke will come sooner than I had planned.

“Sit,” he motions again.

Dad is sitting at the island counter with a coffee in his hands. He has bags under his dark eyes like he’s stayed up all night waiting for me to come home. A pang hits my chest at the thought of worrying him. I love my dad, and I hate that I let him down.

You’re a shit daughter.

Dark thoughts come in, weighing my mind down. How can I fight demons that my own mind created? I sit down on the stool beside him, my eyes focused on the white marble benchtop. My heart beats unnaturally as I wait for him to speak.

“I’m going to cut straight to the point. This has to stop. Sneaking out at night is unacceptable. I’ve spoken with your mother, and we have decided it’s best if you move back in with her.”

My spine locks in place. This can’t be happening. I haven’t spoken to my mom in five years. I’m not going to live with her. Nope, no.

Not even your dad wants you.

“We live in Italy, Dad. Do you really expect me to pack up my things and move back to America?”

“There is no choice in the matter, Sadie. You will be moving back.”

“This is bullshit,” I fume.

The black smoke curls around my limbs. It tightens and tightens until my chest is squeezing. My heart rate increases by the second, and I think I’m about to fucking hyperventilate.

Breathe Sadie.

“I suggest you go and sober up. Your flight is booked for tomorrow afternoon.”

“You can’t do this,” I plead.

“It’s already done.”

My world spins and tips off its axis. This can’t be fucking happening. No, I can’t go back. If I do, I will hurt the only person I’ve ever loved.

The secret I have to keep could destroy everything.

Fuck.