The Restoration Project

rags that wrapped around her flowing with the violent wind. “Why did you leave me? &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I—” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Why did you leave me, August?” She sobbed, maggots crawling out from her now eyeless sockets as I desperately fought against her hands that seized me. I made a mistake. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come back, I shouldn’t have done this! I couldn’t do this anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“April, please—” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You ruined me!” she cried, her jaw hanging open, “You destroyed me, you broke me! I never deserved this, August!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I know!” I desperately cried, my breaths shrill as my lungs desperately expanded under her weight, “I know, I messed up! Please, April, Please!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You could have saved me,” her figure seemed to tower over me now, as I curled up alone in the mud below her, “You could have saved me! But you let me go!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could feel life leeching from me as she screamed. I don’t know why I had ever come here. I don’t know why I had ever thought I could save her, save myself, even. All I ever was, was selfish. I was a selfish idiot. I needed to end things. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I slowly crawled away from her decaying body, my own shaking as I neared the cliff end of the mountain. I knew what I had to do. But I didn’t know if I could, I didn’t know if I even had the strength as I stood up, my arms burnt with her thousands of cuts she decorated with me. Her abuse stopped as I stared down into what seemed like an abyss with no end, her skeletal hands massaging my shoulders as I stared. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’ll stop hurting you when you stop running,” her voice was calm, her beauty restored, “You need to stop avoiding the inevitable, my love.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I know.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You promised you’d join me.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I know.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“What’s stopping you?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I pushed her away, my eyes empty and my body limp. I could not think. I could only ever speak. “You hurt me, Coronis.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She went silent. “I told you to never use that name with me again.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You hurt me,” I turned to face her, taking a step forward as she took a step back. I didn’t know where this was coming from. But it never stopped. “You hurt me, and you keep trying to hurt me, and I gave you so many

chances, but you never redeemed yourself. You’ve never helped yourself. I did all of your dirty work. A lover would never treat me this way.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I haven’t the slightest clue what you speak of,” She remained mirthless, her shoulders tensed as she backed away from me more, her heels at the edge of the cliff. “I don’t think you’re well August, you always get like this when it rains. Why don’t we go home and relax?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“My name is Apollo,” my body felt animated, hands planted against her chest, “And I need to let go.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I watched, motionless, as she silently fell from the mountain, her dull glow fading along with my feelings for her. I felt lost. But I was alive. I was finally alive. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As I gazed off into the cloudless night, the pale moon highlighting my ragged features, a single tear fell from my eye. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I spoke aloud to myself, “I didn’t deserve that.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Apollo?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I turned my head to see a shivering Gemini. His halves were shaking, stitches black as the night as they dripped with rain. He breathed a sigh of relief, rushing towards me and wrapping me in a tight and loving embrace. I could feel myself melt into his arms, emotions flooding back like the violent tides of the ocean. I couldn’t believe I had finally found someone who loved me, who cared about me, even if we had barely remembered each other from all those years ago. But, even still, I felt scared. I felt anxious, without a clue as to why. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Gemini,” I began, swallowing hard, “Why did you follow me?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Because we care about you,” his halves smiled, gentle eyes meeting mine. “I know you remember us, right, Apollo?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I nodded, staring blankly into the distance. “Will it ever get better?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“No, it won’t,” Castor sighed, “Worse, actually.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“But it’s up to you to keep pushing forward, to make it better,” I could hear Pollux’s voice chime in. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Nothing in this world persists without effort,” The two spoke as Gemini, “Just keep that in mind, okay?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Okay.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I’m sorry, Coronis. I couldn’t keep your promise. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And now, years later, I’m so glad I didn’t.

Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I hope you enjoy the following extra pieces about these characters. From items of the past to memories of the future, I have written a series of short stories and poems to share with you.

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I wanted to rip my throat out. “I did this to you? Dear, you did this to yourself. And you’re doing this to me. You could have saved me, but you couldn’t let me go.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She stared at me in shock when I turned to meet her eyes. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You don’t care about me,” a single tear slid down her cracked cheek as she stabbed my vein. “You’ve only ever cared for yourself, you’re hurting me.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I let out a soft cry, moving to sit on the bed and wipe away tears. I didn’t know why I was crying, but now, in retrospect, it was probably for myself. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m just exhausted, dear. This isn’t healthy for either of us.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She didn’t look at me. “I know.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I just wanted to make you happy—if I can’t even do that anymore, what’s the damn point?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I don’t want to leave you.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I felt like I was swallowing rocks. “I know.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m not letting you leave me,” her tone was shaky, her breathing laboured as she trembled, “I’m a terrible companion.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You’ve been struggling,” I falsely assured, biting my tongue, “And…that’s okay.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She released my arm, taking my hand. “You’ll never love anyone else but me, right?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I wanted to vomit. I couldn’t do this, I—I felt so sick. “April, please,” I whispered. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Promise me you’ll never love anyone else!” She cried, taking in gasping breaths. I couldn’t. But I did. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Of course not,” I swallowed hard, my mouth begging for a liquified respite that would never come, “I’ll never love anyone at all, except for you.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her grasp weakened as her razor nails dragged themselves down my forearms. Yet, in my agony, I remained stoic. I know that’s what she wanted. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her hand fell limp as a smile crossed her face, her eyes nearly slipping closed as the life finally faded from her body. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I deserved better.

I don't think I love her. I think I need to get out. But I promised her, I— I don't think that knife was in her chest. It’s in mine. I didn’t kill her. I think I need to go. But I need to stay. I don’t know what to do. I sit and wait.

Healing

It was a comfortable home, truly. Two quiet people lived in it,&nbsp; And it had been built up by their hands. They were a kind couple. They never yelled, Or argued, Or did anything of that sort. They were quiet. They were kind. I watched them build each other up. It was the day after calamity. The damage had been done But they were willing to heal Together. They lived comfortably, With a growing farm building its way around them, And with the sweet scent of chamomile And peppermint Filling the air every night. It was a wonderful house, truly. They were a wonderful couple. They were quiet. And they loved each other dearly.

I’m Javani Benitez, an aspiring novelist and poet who enjoys the exploration of disorienting, creepy and downright dark themes through metaphorical and descriptive writing. With stories about intrapersonal relationships, societal taboos, and frequent analyses of the morbid human mind, I bring to attention details glossed over the world’s eye through stories, whether those details be unpleasantries or something far more sinister. Novelism is something I have always expressed interest in even as a young child, through the creation of a murky and fantastical universe in which my mind occupies.

“Apollo!” my strained voice called, hands prying at concrete and metal doors as I searched there for him. It had been almost a year since anyone had last seen him, I was growing concerned. The house barely remained alive, outsides chipped and roof caving in. I feared he’d met a similar fate. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Keep searching,” I heard myself say, my right eye squinting through the cracks in rubble, “we need to find Apollo.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“What if he’s dead?” I said again, my left side relaxing uncomfortably in a sigh as a terracotta hand yanked itself away. I grabbed it, my black nails digging into their skin as my pale hand pulled the other close.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Don’t give up,” I was stern, “If you care, you won’t give up.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“But—” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Enough, Castor,” I growled, “You gave up once, we’re not giving up again.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It felt so foreign hearing that name again. For the longest time, we were…not that.&nbsp;But still, we continued on, pulling ourselves up and over the debris of the house. Whatever happened to its once pristine condition, we wondered? I suppose questions could be asked later. I don’t think we want to talk right now, as my calloused, twisted feet clashed with shards of glass. We were inside. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could feel Castor’s mind latch onto mine as we pushed ourselves up and over the shattered windows. I felt myself come to again. As I brushed shards of glass off of myself, I couldn’t help but gag a little at that…awful stench. Where did it come from, I wanted to ask myself. But I knew I wouldn’t respond. Anyway, it didn’t matter. We needed to find Apollo. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Aching voices haunted the halls, walls heaving with a weighted sorrow

I remember the day it happened, I think, too well for my own good. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I was just trying to rescue our cattle, we were both together, freeing them from the fences. But they showed up. They began to hurt us for taking back what was rightfully ours. I was angry. But I never thought I would ever feel like this. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Castor’s neck had been twisted at a sickeningly grotesque angle, his stomach sliced down the middle where organs writhed and slithered about, pooling at his sides along with noxious fluid. I could barely help my body as I bent over, bile forcing itself from my stomach at the mere sight of my brother. I could hear a laugh in front of me, Lynceus’ bony hand lifting my dripping chin and forcing his monstrous eyes to meet mine. Before I even realised it, I had landed a punch to his neck, an audible crack deafening my ears. I couldn’t stop hurting him, not even after his face was nothing but a tangle of flesh. I was angry. I was so angry. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Idas tightened a hand around my shoulder, forcing me off of Lynceus. There was blood staining his robes. He was covered in blood. In castor’s blood.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“How dare you!” I screamed, “We just wanted our cattle, how dare you take my brother’s life!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You took ours!” Idas angled his spear at me, “You took our wives, All because of your stupid jealousy!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“My brother never deserved to die!” I swung a punch, tears clouding my eyes as I collapsed onto my knees,&nbsp;“He was all I ever cared for!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Well, too bad,” Idas held his spear over my neck, pressing the tip in. I could feel blood running down my back. I was sick of fighting. We were

always fighting. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A flash of bright lightning appeared behind me as the agonising scream of my cousin sound and faded just as quickly as the light came. With a glance, I saw his body, charred to a crisp as my father stepped onto his ash. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?” Zeus asked, his brow furrowed. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“He killed Castor,” I shook from my place on the field. “I’m sorry, it should have never come to this—” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“It’s all right, my son,” he seemed to grow cold as he kneeled, holding my face in his large paws, “But, you realise, your actions cannot go unacknowledged.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I know,” my voice was shaky. “Father, please bring Castor back. He didn’t deserve this—he never deserved to die, please…” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Zeus pondered for a moment. “I will. But you must give away half of yourself in order to restore half of his.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Anything for Castor,” I felt so relieved at that moment. This nightmare was going to end, it had to end! “Please, hurry!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You must spend half of yourself as Olympus, and half as Hades, do you understand?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I hesitated for only a moment. “I understand, father.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Then, it is done.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Despite his words, for some odd reason, I found myself laying on the floor. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Pollux?” I heard Castor’s anxious voice call. “Where are you?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m right here,” I heard myself say. I could feel the left side of my body tense up with those words, but I didn’t know why. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Why can’t I see you?” he asked, my heaving chest growing shaky as it lifted a hand.&nbsp; Terracotta skin. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Castor—” I heard myself say, my right hand lifting itself up. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pale knuckles. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I swallowed a desperate breath. I felt him do the same. A seam stretching down our face nearly separated as mine contorted, my mouth agape as his panicked eye met mine. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;What were we now?

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My brittle hands found themselves pushing at a window, forcing it open and pushing myself out shoulder by shoulder, knee by knee. I had to return to her. There was no other way. I had to return now. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My bones ached as I ran through rain, shielding my face from the sky as stars stared at me from the sky in shame. I didn’t care. She needed me. I needed her and she needed me. Nothing more. Nothing less. I might have been free. But I wasn’t happy. Not without her. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Apollo?” I knocked on the door to his room, a warm cup of mountain tea cradled within my palms, “Are you all right? I made mountain tea and I heard a noise, I thought maybe you’d like some to calm you down?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There was no response. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Apollo,” I knocked once more, my brow furrowing, “Are you okay?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The wind whistled through the window. I forced the door open. His bed was empty, the lock had been torn off of the wood. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He ran away.

I was an ungrateful and selfish fucking asshole. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Tears ran down my face as I sprinted in the rain, away from my respite and towards the prison I had thought was my forsaken freedom. My chest rose abruptly and fell even faster as I inhaled sharp breaths, desperately pushing past empty streets towards that mountain she was buried on. I needed her, how could I have abandoned her? She didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve that. I never deserved Gemini’s kindness, anyway, wherever they were. I just needed her. But I didn’t know why. I wish I knew why. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I was near the mountain now, my feet thudding against soggy grass as I all but crawled up towards the respite that stood above me. There was someone at the top. There was a woman. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could feel the weight of my body dragging me down as I struggled to keep footing on the slippery surface. The raindrops hurt, but I couldn’t afford to care anymore. I needed her. I needed her. She needed me. She was going to hurt herself if I didn’t save her. Please, I just wanted to save her. In my emotional mess, all I could think of was her. Her, her, her! I loved her! I hated her! I loved and I hated her and I had no idea what to think or what to feel or anything at all. I hated it. I hated feeling, I hated living, I hated everything. But I loved her, as I met her atop the treacherous storm. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I knew you’d come back for me,” her smile was beautiful, just as it had been the day we had met. She hadn’t changed a bit. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I couldn’t—” I swallowed hard, “I’m sorry. I should have left you to rest.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“How could you do this to me?” thunder cracked from behind her, the

hand moved to cup my face. I tensed. “What are you doing here?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I was just—” my lungs swelled, rigid hands slowly moving to wipe the bloody foam from her nose, “I was checking up on us, that’s all.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Come back to bed,” She beckoned, suddenly back in the doorway. “Come rest with me.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My smile faded. I could feel my mouth going dry as I approached the door, her maggots crawling onto my body as she took my hand in hers. My skin grew mottled as she slowly guided me back to her bedroom, fingers numb and joints exposed. My stomach began to bloat with carbon and my mouth began to leak bile, tears of what I convinced myself to be happiness blinding me as I was painfully dragged. I stood alone in agony before, but she was finally making it better, just as she had done all those years ago. She promised she’d make me better, right? But for some reason, I longed for that warmth in my body once again.

I’m trying to remember everything I forgot. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I don’t know how I got here, believe me, I really don’t. But by god, please let me remember anything but her. I don’t want to think about her. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to ever hear her voice again. But I can still feel her arms around me, the nauseating odour of rotting flesh barely even hanging onto muscle and tendon leaving my body paralysed. How did we end up here? &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I remained before a large nursery before looming aloe leaves outstretched towards the sky. They were yellowed, void of the girth of healing they once used to provide. Blue roses flowered at the base, colours intertwining into vines of love, loss, and damnation. Blue roses. I have memories of loving the colour blue. I have memories watering these plants, digging up graves of growth and allowing seeds one last burial. I remember. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The smell of life all but burned my lungs, my chest expanding as my mouth remained agape, desperately gulping for air. Everything was earthy. For a moment, I felt as if I was a part of it, as well. Looking down at my hands, I saw vines growing from nailbeds, my palms pink with arteries pumping red blood in a pulse so dizzying it almost felt real. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My fingers twitched, my ribcage creaking as I pressed myself against the cold wall. I could feel my body jolt. I was alive. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“August,” Her stern voice was behind me, “You should be in bed.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m sorry, April,” My face grew numb, my shoulder aching as she rested a contorted hand on it. “You’re right, I should go back to bed.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could feel her bloody lips on mine, palms forcing me against the wall as her teeth sunk into now rotting gums. Everything felt nauseatingly fuzzy.

cast downward with sadness and shame. “She’s dead, that much I know. And I’m dying, I’m going to join her all the same.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Do you want to join her?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He shook his head. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Then why are you doing this to yourself?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No response. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I know you want to leave,” we guided him from his place in the room and slowly led him away from the bed. Even just the act of walking hurt. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I know I want to leave,” he wrapped arms around himself, “But I can’t just leave her like this.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“We can bury her,” I quickly spoke, pushing past Castor. “We can bury her, lay her to rest, maybe that would give you peace of mind.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Apollo nodded after a long while, knees trembling as we guided him past her corpse. I could tell he didn’t want to let go, but it was obvious staying here was no longer an option even for us, as just being in the vicinity of that decaying body made me nauseous. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I just…I thought I killed her, but,” he sucked in a shaky breath, his body heaving along with his chest, “ I think this was killing the both of us. I was lucky to have survived.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“And I’m glad you did,” my brother held out his hand, a kind smile gently tugging at our stitches. We couldn’t stay separated for much longer. “Come on, let’s go. We really shouldn’t stay much longer.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Will she be okay?” he seemed anxious as we left the room, knuckles whitening as he desperately clung to the wall. He didn't want to leave, but it was obvious he had to. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“She’ll be okay,” We said. I could feel my mind merge once again, the agony fading just as soon as it had begun. I felt calm again. “Our name is Gemini.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He seemed to smile, just a little, as he let go. “My name was August.”

“Do you think you’re ready?” Gemini asked me, his pale and terracotta hands massaging my shoulders as my knuckles tightened against the wooden handle of the shovel. To be honest, I had no answer to his question. I had no idea what I was doing here, either. Nothing felt real, I don’t think anything was real, but it was. I’m struggling to stay afloat with what little facts I know. But, there I was. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was raining. Heavily. My skin cracked and blistered under raindrops, unexpected hydration simply pooling atop my dried pores. I forgot how vivid this was, how painful this was. But I’ll never forget that night. I don’t think I want to, either. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Take as long as you need,” Gemini spoke, the left eye of his face softening as his tanned arm moved to open an umbrella over me. Part of me was happy I was no longer in pain, but part of me felt like I deserved to be. Of course, I did. I deserved to suffer for my months of agonising ignorance, for my stupidity. But I know Gemini would insist otherwise. That’s beside the point here. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Letting go of people is hard,” Gemini’s right brow furrowed, “If you need help, let us know.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m okay,” I swallowed hard, my once dry mouth nearly filled to the brim with saliva I once thought would never return. “I just need a moment.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It remained silent. I planted the shovel into the ground, pushing it downward with what little strength I could muster. The grass was disturbed, pushed up as I lifted it at its fulcrum. I was one step closer to letting go. I had to let go. I think I was ready to let go. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I paused to take a break, my chest swelling with oxygen as I took in

I could see her resting body sink into the dilapidated mattress as I moved to stand, my weight relieving itself from our damaged bed. As long as she slept soundly, I was happy. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I kicked away maggots eating away at my feet, my healing soles pressing themselves step by step on the frigid concrete. I could hear them crying for me, their wails nearly shocking my body into a disturbing trance as hurried feet moved towards the nursery. It had to be in here somewhere. Ah, there it was. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could feel myself approaching the crib, my bony hands picking up something soft and warm. It was a baby, all alone in a crib. It was our baby.&nbsp;It was us. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“How are you?” I remembered asking, the tension in my face melting away as the baby reached up to pull at my decaying ear. I forgot how much I loved her, her hand slowly rotting away as I rolled her fingers around in my hand. Maggots crawled out from under her skin while I watched her body fail, dry coughs and runny noses slowly suffocating her as I ran a bony finger against her nauseatingly hot forehead. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I knew she was asleep by the time I kissed her forehead, setting her back down in the cradle, her ribcage exposed with multiple cracks spiralling across her sternum. She slept peacefully, her chest barely rising and falling as blood leaked from her body. How messy she was, as I found she had left some on my hands as well. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I hope she wakes up soon.

I could feel my body convulse as I sucked in a sharp breath of air, every inch of it assaulted and stung with razor-like licks of air blowing over me. I sat up slowly, my eyes drifting to the woman that lay beside me. She’s been asleep for two days now. Our baby stopped crying, the flowers stopped blooming, the buzzing of the insects was no more as static from a lonely tv all but deafened the silence. She stopped speaking to me. Our bed was drenched in my sorrow, as her body refused to wake from the excrement she silently insisted she lay upon. It smelled disgusting, but in a way, she remained beautiful still.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I remember standing up, the concrete feeling like daggers slicing at now delicately soft feet as I shuffled through the cluttered room. I don’t think I ever remembered the house being this messy. I don’t ever remember these boxes, these cans, laying there over the floors. I don’t even remember eating during that time, my ribs pressed against my skin painfully as my stomach near pleaded for something, anything, to keep my dying body alive. I knew I could not ignore this pain any longer. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I found myself inside of the nursery, staring down at the infantless crib. Where did we go? &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“August,” I heard a soft voice behind me, her figure in the doorway. Tears filled my eyes, emotions I once thought empty swelling to the surface of my flushed cheeks. It was her. There she was. She was going to hurt me. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“April,” I spoke softly, my throat aching as the saliva in my mouth began to rejuvenate my sandpaper tongue. Oh, how happy I was to see her! But how afraid I was, of her punishment. “How did you sleep, my love?” “August,” She approached, her sunken eyes narrowed as a greyed, clammy

Love Behind Hate

Breakthrough: A Suite of Haikus

I have been stabbed Twice In the back. I have endured Attack After Attack. Blood remains pouring From holes Between ribs. And I remain still. I am weak. I am broken. But I do my best to push myself up. Brush in hand, Arms quivering, My liquids pooling, I paint. I paint. And I paint. And I paint. And I won’t stop, I refuse to die, Until your damage Becomes my artwork.

Asleep, I find myself. A door to the room opens With a cold treaty. My hands were theirs Their bloody fists squeezed mine—snap My fingers. Their hands were on me Skin crumbling with a touch I cannot do this. I want to let go But they will not let me die I’m Schrödinger's Cat. I rip away now, My skin torn, raw and bloody. I’m in agony. I am free at last. She is gone—I am at peace. I have been restored. Awake, at last, now. But I remain exhausted. I yawn.

that trapped existence with painfully messy strokes of a crumbling copper fluid. I could feel tears well up from my left, but my right remained painfully numb. I remembered this, somehow. What a curse, memory was. But that’s not what’s important now. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My unbalanced footsteps echoed against the clashing chaos, concrete floor nearly crumbling under the weight of my body. As the smell worsened, my pace slowed, but I knew I had to keep pushing on. I’ll never stop pushing on, but— &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There’s a corpse on the bed. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Pollux,” I could feel Castor detach from me, “Is that—” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped, “I need to keep looking for him.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My left side went silent, as I moved to examine the body that lay lifeless on the mattress, surrounded by maggots, bed bugs and even her own excrement. But despite it all, she was in pristine condition, clearly loved and cared for in her state of decay. She was a corpse, and here I was, an unassuming and unexpected mortician just about ready to prepare her.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Until Castor’s hand clasped around a cleaver, nearly thrust into our back. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I felt myself turn around, crazed eyes boring into what almost felt like our insides. This man, clothed in bloodstained rags, wanted to kill us, without an ounce of a reason why. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Who are you?” His voice was raspy, chapped lips parting near-forcefully as my left side shoved him away. His eyes never parted from mine. It was chilling, his familiarity, and I couldn’t help but wonder about whatever in the world happened to leave him like this. Clammy hands, skin nearly tearing apart at the joints, sunken cheeks…I was shocked he wasn’t dead. He looked damn near close. Especially with the large knife handle that protruded from his ribcage. I wonder if he did that to himself. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“We were searching for someone,” I said, “Perhaps you would know where they were?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I wouldn’t know a damn thing,” he spat coldly, “Now, get away from her.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I turned to look at the woman that lay lifeless on the bed. She seemed almost peaceful, not a wound on her pale, rotting flesh. Not a speck of blood remained on her, but the empty side next to her was drenched in it. Was this corpse the one he was talking about? I couldn’t have been surprised, he looked as if he could join her there on the bed at any second. Except, not as

peacefully, with how bewildered he seemed. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I said, get away from her!” he shouted, shaking hands waving around his weapon. With a smack, it fell from his weak grasp, and nearly did he. Castor caught him before he could, pressing him up against a wall and allowing him time to steady himself. It was sad, it was almost laughable. But I knew Castor would hate me for doing so. I could already feel him growing bitter, not to mention the pain shooting through the middle of our body. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“We’re just trying to find someone,” he spoke calmly, wincing, “would you happen to know where he is?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The man clenched brittle, tan fists, scoffing. “You overestimate me.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“His name is Apollo,” I continued, watching as his eyes widened, “He’s been missing for ten months now, this is where he used to live.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The man remained silent. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“He had skin as rich as bronze,” Castor cleared our throat, “Golden hair, almost radiant, and he was clothed in ivory silks.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Stop,” he seemed rather small now, life liquifying itself back into his body as he stumbled over his words. “I’m not leaving here.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I gawked. Castor nodded, reaching out a hand to brush withering hair behind dry ears. It was obvious he wanted to recoil, to push us away, but there was something behind his glassy eyes that kept his rage at bay, something I hoped we could latch onto and pull him out with. As painful as it was to remain consciously separated from Castor, I knew I had to do it if I wanted to fix this. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You can’t stay here,” he murmured, taking and massaging his bony hands as they cramped at his touch, “This isn’t healthy, Apollo.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I barely even know who you are,” Apollo choked out, desperately clinging to what he could as his hands reached for the ones of the corpse, “I barely even know who that man you speak of is. Why do you try to tear us apart?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Because you’ve already done so yourself,” I bristled, “You might as well speed things up.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He jerked back as if he had been stung, sadness shifting onto his face for a single moment. Castor was livid, nearly slapping us before pushing me out entirely. I could only watch in silence what he would do next. The pain was growing unbearable. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m sorry about my brother,” he sighed, “You didn’t deserve that.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“He was right, anyway,” Apollo seemed defeated now, his golden eyes

what felt like my own will to live, to let go. The rain thudded against the umbrella, violent crashes of lightning highlighting the scene as I continued to dig. Sweat dripped from my forehead as I grunted—I didn’t even know my body could do that anymore. Tears welled in my eyes and mixed with rain as I struggled to make indent after indent in the earth, my shovel lifting up more and more of what I could muster with strength that I didn’t even know I had possessed. I was ready to let go of her, I was ready to let go of that figment of an infant that bound our relationship together. I was ready. I could do this. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Bring her over here,” I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m ready.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Gemini gently hooked his arms under the corpse of my April, his footsteps shifting in an almost disjointed way, but only for a moment. I was blinded by tears, but even in her death, she remained beautiful. Her once silky dress was in rags, stained white cloth nearly tearing apart as he placed her in my shaking arms. At that moment, I struggled to understand what I saw in her glassy eyes, but I could have sworn her lips parted, whispering a thank you into my ear as I set her down in her grave. A grave I had dug for her, a grave I had dug for us. But not a grave I had dug for myself. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With one last kiss to her rotted cheek, I lifted my shovel, dirt moving to cover her thankful eyes.&nbsp;She was nothing anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Let’s get you home,” Gemini took the shovel from my hands, wrapping an arm around me as I sobbed. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I was finally free.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” he took my hands in his own, heterochromatic eyes meeting mine as the seams holding his face together wiggled with every movement he made. “Do you feel well enough to eat, Apollo?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In all honesty, I could barely register what he said to me, let alone process what had just happened a mere hour ago. She was finally gone, we were finally laid to rest, and here I was, still here. I couldn’t believe I finally did it. Anxious relief all but flooded nearly all of my senses. I couldn’t muster up the voice to speak. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“It’s okay if you don’t,” Gemini lowered his voice, “Just let me know, okay?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Of course,” I choked. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The surroundings were all new, and I found myself remaining in a wooden house, willingly bound by a soft haze. There were no stains decorating the walls, no excrement, no decay, not even the stench of rotting flesh was present here. My lungs expanded with clean, earthy air, my body wracking itself as I struggled to exhale it all. I never ever wanted to let it go. I never knew air could be this…clean. I forgot how alive I could be.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Are you ready to eat?” they asked, pushing toward me a plate of ambrosia. It was a dish so distant in my memory, I could barely feel as it grazed past. But I nodded, taking their hands and stroking both skin as pale as snow and as dark as terracotta. He was beautiful. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A spoon slowly slipped itself into my mouth, the wooden instrument so foreign on my tongue I almost felt faint. I don’t ever remember eating something that tasted so vivid. My chest tightened as the liquid lay its healing onto me, eyes widening as the smog of the past slowly began wiping itself

I could feel her claws digging into me, but for some reason, I could not let go of her. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This is always the typical case for us. My lady, the month before May and the month after March, and I, the month before September and the month after July. April and August, we call ourselves. April and August. We are spring and summer, always on the cusp of a harsh winter or a dying autumn, yet straying far from the edge. This is what life was like for us. One always came after the other, August always wrapped up what April had left behind. But now, I must clean after my own mess, and I’m unsure if I know how.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I still hear her sometimes. I still hear her, calling for my name, weeping throughout the halls for someone, anyone, to fix the messes she left. It haunts me. She still haunts me, as the chest of her corpse rises and falls beside me in the bloodied bed we sink into. The daggers of her breath dig into me, but I can’t let go of her. I don’t think I’ll ever learn how. It scares me sometimes. She scares me sometimes. But, even then, I don’t think I could ever let go of her, not like this. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her fangs hurt, but I’ve numbed to the pain. The sensations of her sweet venom slowly and painfully eating away at my veins are enough to keep me grounded, enough to keep me going to see the sunlight of tomorrow. No matter how many times she has killed me, I cannot seem to die. I always seem to come back, and as the autumn, what am I alive, if not dead? What am I alive if I am not dead?&nbsp; I don’t like thinking about it.

My feet could not stop moving, but they never approached the door. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My eyes have been forcefully blinded from the agonising burn of this room, colours all around of coral and rose suffocating me as the stinging burn of carnations burrowed themselves into my retinas. This room was painful, it hurt. But once before, it was not like this. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could not stop moving, even as my tired, thorned body spun in the silver mirror. She danced with me, tears of laughter streaming like waterfalls from the caring, oceanic crevices of her soft, reddened face. I feel fear here, but I once felt happiness, as she dragged my decaying body around in her neverending corpse dance. I hate it there. But I was happy there. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I remember my decaying feet swinging along with her gentle yet malicious tune. I remember enjoying it, regret and pain bleaching itself out of my skin and staining pink carpets a bright, crimson red. I remember gasping for breath with glass lungs filled to the brim with mildew, the vines that strained to hold my bones together tightening themselves with every jerk and jolt my body could manage. No matter how rough she was, she was always so gentle with my fragile soul. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When we would finish dancing, we would collapse together, laughing amongst ourselves as her gentle hands wrapped around wrists eaten away by maggots. I was broken, I was rotted, I was decaying, but with her gentle kiss, I could feel my lungs expand anew, my flesh mending and my muscles contracting in a painfully human way. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Now, I stand alone in the room, my bones creaking as I move to mimic that solemn corpse dance from all those years ago. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Where has the time gone?

* Attic: the numeral system used in ancient Greece

α': 1 β': 2 γ': 3 δ': 4 ε': 5 Ϛ': 6 ζ': 7 η': 8 θ': 9

ι': 10 κ': 20 λ': 30 μ': 40 ν': 50 ξ': 60 ο': 70 π': 80 ϙ': 90

There are many more Attic numerals, however, they have not been provided for the sake of relevancy.

away from my vision. Had this been what she had taken from me?&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My frail body, hanging on by a thread as skin barely kept it together, sobbed. And now, with my ribcage aching, so did I.

I kicked the sandals off of my feet, pressing myself down onto soft fur sheets. I nearly dissipated under the weight of this sensation. April wasn’t here. She wasn’t laying next to me in bed. She&nbsp;was in a grave, and here I was, the narcissistic asshole who put her there. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This was my first time in years without her. Lying awake in bed, surrounded by soft, clean cushion, all I could think about was her. I thought I would be rid of her, I thought I could deal! But here I am, a solitary idiot. I wish it was otherwise. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Maybe I shouldn’t have abandoned her. But she was dead! I just let her rest, isn’t that what was right? But I can’t forget the words she said to me.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You’ll never love anyone else but me, right?” I repeated her words aloud to myself. I felt so sick in that moment, holding her dying hand as her box cutter claws slit my wrists and drained me. “Of course not,” I hesitantly responded to her in my memory, her nails carving one last scar as I gasped and writhed in an agonising and blind futility. Even now, I want to throw up thinking about it. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My stomach lurched as the ambrosia within nearly came up again. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I wasn't supposed to be here! I was a traitor, I broke the very promise I had ensured for my own filthy and selfish desires. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that. I needed to bring her back. I needed to be with her. I was her August and she was my April, right? It couldn't be any other way! I didn't know it any other way! &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My legs swung themselves to the side of the bed, barely grazing over the carpet as I ran to the door. Gemini was still awake. God, what did it matter? She was crying for me, she needed me! Why did I need to be needed?

This is an allegorical story about the struggle of disconnecting from a toxic relationship, told from the perspective of a jaded character and his experience as he is followed through intimately written trial and triumph to a path of self-connection and healing. Through vivid and distressing imagery, this has been made possible. Please, read with caution. I hope you enjoy.

To Erin Bartram, Victoria Nordlund, Katherine Kelly, and Prisca Afantchao. Thank you for helping us through this wonderful program at every step of the way.

April! The knife was in her chest, or so I thought, even if it was meant to be in mine. That knife isn’t even here anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, but all I could do was look into her glassy eyes. And even after all of this time, I never wondered why that knife was gone. And I never noticed that it was my blood that poured out to her.

I didn’t mean to kill her, I didn’t—I didn’t want to kill her! &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sickly warm blood soaked through my pant legs, staining my skin as I sobbed. A knife I had thought to be thrust into my chest appeared in hers, limbs unmoving as I took her hand in mine. She was dead. I think I killed her. Or she was sleeping, and this was some sick prank. Whatever it was, I couldn’t take it. I didn’t want to hurt her, I never wanted to hurt her! &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My chest ached as I lifted her body, still as warm as it was the day she had first taken to me. I could barely breathe, it felt as if my lungs had been sliced off by that very same knife I had sworn was shoved into my body. I couldn’t believe I had done this. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Slowly, I carried her, running a gentle hand over her face that still seemed oh-so-alive. Where did all of the time go? Why did I have to do this to her? I was unfair, It should have been me. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My body felt heavy as I set her down into bed. I felt hollow, limp, almost. Like life was slowly being sucked out of me through an injury of some kind. But I wasn’t injured, it was only her. I killed—I killed April. Even if the knife was gone now, even if her wounds were invisible, she lay unmoving on the bed. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She was dead. I think I killed her. I think I killed her and I don’t know what to do. I cant—I can’t just get away with it, I need to help her, I need to protect her! She has to be alive, she just has to be! There’s no other way around it, April has to be alive. I can’t let her die. She’s going to wake up and be just fine tomorrow, right? And then—and then we can be together again! We have to be together again, I need to be with her. She’s going to hurt herself if I’m not. God, how could I ever forgive myself? I’ve already hurt

Life seemed so distant now. I don’t know why I would have ever wanted to be a part of that. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I can’t remember why I came here anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But I find myself laying in the dirt.

I’m not feeling okay. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Every day I spend with her, I can just feel myself growing sicker and sicker. I barely have enough energy to move now, as I am decorated with cuts and bruises bleeding out what I could only consider the last ounces of my patience, love, and will to live. If it wasn’t for her, I would have been found dead by now, whether it be by people I could barely consider friends or by a random man searching in the forest for his same fate. But, I wasn’t dead. She was the one who was dying. And it was all my fault. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“August,” her warm voice croaked from her place in our bed, “Please, don’t leave me.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t turn around. I was angry at her, but why? Why was I angry at the one who I loved? She didn’t deserve that. Especially on her deathbed, she didn’t deserve that. But I truly felt like she did, as selfish as I was. I couldn’t respond to her. I couldn’t do this anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“August!” She shouted, her face contorting as her back arched desperately to grab my arm, “How dare you ignore me!” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I wanted to snap at her, to scream and cry and hurt her just as she hurt me. But I couldn’t. I was a coward. I could never hurt her, even if I tried. But I wanted to. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m not feeling good tonight, love,” my voice was shaky, fear wracking my body as I worriedly waited over her response, “I hope you understand.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her grip tightened, the bladed edges of her claws slicing lines into my forearms. “No, I don’t understand,” she mocked. “You sit here and complain while I’m here laying on your bed because of your negligence. This is your fault.”

He’s here again, That August of summer That August Desperately reaching for the respite Of fall. I am here with them. They are here with me. I told them to stop crying, I told them to quit whining, But they would never calm down, August stood over us,&nbsp; Watching through eyes glassy and red. There was a knife in his chest, Sleeves rolled up to expose clawed marks Of desperation, Resistance, And perhaps, A personal grudge On himself. I held them close to me, But I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. I wasn’t supposed to keep them here, They were dying, anyway. This whole house was dying. But even still, April refused to let go. Slowly, he pried them from my grasp, Picking them up with clean hands, And setting them back down with bloody ones. His eyes were wild as he let out a sob,&nbsp; Brushing bloody fingers across their soft forehead.&nbsp; But it was necessary.

I held their corpse tight, Gently tickling them as I always did With my soft fabric, My wooden dowels Guarding them. In my heart, I knew, It wouldn’t be long until April expired, as well.

Codependency

Name

Safari may block some audio or video from playing automatically and ‘read to me’ will skip these. You can configure this in Safari’s preferences.