intended

fast forward two more years; now we

were both nineteen. april's suicide

was completely forgotten by most,

apart from her friends, me, and matthew.

and as for you?

you mourned for a week.

and

you were still with him.

and still blanking me from

existence, every glance that broke off

in a split second, splicing my internal

organs and spilling them vulnerably

in front of your feet. you consciously

chose to ignore my suffering. even

after april took her own life.

skye, i never ignored yours.

you were so unfair to me skye.

i could have hated you, i should

have hated you. you were being little more

than a self-absorbed nobody.

but i

was obsessed with you.

absorbed into a psychotic obsession.

no matter how hard i tried,

i still wanted to kiss you, to crash our

lips together in an eternal fusing of

passion and true love. i still needed your

hands slotting in my own.

i still needed to strip you to your

delicate skin, and beautiful bones,

like the pillars holding up holy greek temples.

i still needed to fuck you, relentlessly,

passionately, hard.

your smile was killing me,

because i knew i was no longer

your reason to arrange your

expression into such flattering

features.

hell, your new ensemble of clothes were wounding me,

such pretty clothes worn for the sugared

compliments from matthew's bitter tongue.

two years receiving fleeting glances,

and sour expressions- you really couldn't

forgive me for a profanity?

but... here it comes.

it was midnight, and there was

a distinct unsettled feeling in the

extreme pits of my stomach.

the kind where you know

you're going to run into trouble,

powerless to it

like you are to a hurricane.

i don't really remember why i

was out until midnight. perhaps

an argument with my mother,

or my father about something.

i remember feeling mad, anyway.

and then i was crossing the bridge

that ran over the local railway, the pregnant moon

casting silver slits through navy clouds,

illuminating the parallel train tracks.

perhaps it's a metaphor for me and

you, skye. parallel, never touching.

i wish it wasn't.

that's when i noticed him advancing,

hands in his pockets and shoulder-length

blonde hair, framing a darkened

expression. earphones plugged into

his ears, eyebrows furrowed. anxious

about something. anxious about you,

i very soon came to discover.

perhaps it was a coincidence we

ran into each other.

or maybe it was fate. sweet, beautiful,

fate.

matthew saw me practically

instantly, and he paused. probably

seeing something in my face. probably

feeling the very same disturbance as me in

his churning stomach, his paling complexion.

"hi." he said.

i nod in response. "hey."

"fancy seeing you here."

he says it confidently.

like he anticipated me being here all along.

i study him carefully, trying

to see the undermining, lurking

accusations beyond his statement,

like a sea monster beneath the depths

of an ink black seascape.

i study him carefully to judge him,

trying to sift through the blonde hair,

the forlorn green eyes, the slight fuzz of

a returning beard, to find a feature i

could actually identify as likable.

he was attractive in that enigmatic,

alternative way. but skye, how you could

refer to him as a soulmate...

suddenly, he pulled out a cigarette,

lighting it carefully, sending sparks of

cherry red ashes, and the peachy orange

of the lighter flame to brighten the night.

"i didn't know you smoke."

"ah." matthew speaks, sucking on the end.

"skye doesn't like me smoking near her.

i'm trying to quit."

"looks like it."

he grins. "i'm certain you'd drop

a die-hard habit in an instant if it was

for skye."

"what do you mean by that?" i warn.

matthew shrugs one shoulder.

"you like her. i'm surprised she's

so oblivious to it. or maybe she

just pretends to be oblivious,

to spare you."

"spare me?"

"she'd reject you. she has me." matthew

tells me matter-of-factly.

teeth clench together, grinding

like the cogs of a juddering murder machine.

"and it just so happens that i'm her

baby daddy." matthew continues,

blind to my physical display of fury.

"what?" i seethe.

"she's pregnant. i'm anxious about it,

like really scared. i didn't expect it."

my heart drops. i can't describe it.

it felt like all my blood was rushing

too fast, and not at all at the same time.

my face felt warm and puffy, my muscles

clenching around my stomach like

i received a hard blow.

"i'm going round to see her now.

she called me saying she wanted me to

come over to sleep with her. she gets

scared at night. she likes my arms around her."

"i know. and she likes her hair stroked.

she likes her cheek stroked too.

she wishes she were lovable,

although she is, and she believes in

fairytale happy endings to save herself

from a harsh reality. she believes in soulmates."

matthew looks amused. "do you believe

in soulmates declan?"

"yes. but not as you imagine. the

love is always one-sided."

"you'll find another girl, buddy.

your true soulmate-"

"no. this isn't just based off

of my feelings. april's too."

his face went blank,

choking on the curling

wisps of smoke that danced

patterns in the air.

striking a nerve, i continue, "april

was in love with you."

"this is nonsense."

"it's the truth. maybe if you opened

your eyes and weren't as blind as skye,

you'd have seen it."

"come on now."

"you killed her."

"what?" matthew breathes in sharply.

"you killed someone with your

ignorance."

"she killed herself-"

"and you think i'm going to let

a dangerous weed like you get

in the way of my rose?"

"declan, this is crazy."

there was a resounding noise in the distance.

clatter-clatter.

"you irritate me beyond belief when

you make skye smile. i love her

so much. but are you going to drive

me to my self-suicide by turning

a blind eye again? to the facts?

like you did with april?"

"declan, mate, stop right there-"

"i fucking hate you. you don't go

well with skye at all. you're a murderer."

clatter-clatter

clatter-clatter

clatter-clatter

"i've craved to split you up

since you got together, matthew."

"you're pyscho."

well. skye, i, well, i, i snapped.

i was going to destroy him

worse than i could have ever

destroyed kieran, or even harry for

that matter.

i had to destroy them. destroy them all.

"pyscho." i repeat slowly.

"you need to learn to let go, buddy.

you're obsessive."

but you. you were mine.

all mine.

you promised.

i lashed out. out of fury. out of

hearing words of truth and being unable

to cope.

impulsive, battering kicks to matthew's

side, ensured he was teetering off-balance.

i heard his breaths steepen,

ragged pleading for me to stop.

i didn't.

matthew stabbed a flurry of

punches in the vague direction

of my face, but he was lucky enough

to strike fearsomely on my temple.

a warm pain spread from

the powerful hit, my ears ringing

like catastrophic church bells clang

together in the midst of a storm.

i grunt and rain a parade of

punches, hard slaps directly on

matthew's face. i smell blood like

toxic waste, coppery and furious.

i still refuse to stop.

even as matthew looks gaunt,

his eyes glassy, his head lolling

and blood, fucking demonic

waterfalls of blood streaming down

his chiseled cheek bones, the

contours of his face, i still refuse to stop.

snatching a fistful of his long hair,

i drag him, pinning him against

the bridge railings. my other hand

clasps around his neck, a vice on lifeless

wood. his breaths are shallow.

his chest rises and falls to the beat of

a metronome. slow, but unfortunately steady.

"declan-"

clatter-clatter

clatter-clatter

clatter-clatter

"skye must be incredibly stupid

to like a fool like you."

"you really are an obsessive,

psychotic, violent devil aren't you?"

he spits blood in my face.

CLATTER-CLATTER

CLATTER-CLATTER

CLATTER-CLATTER

i glance up at the constellations

in the deep navy sky, wondering

which star harnessed april's soul.

if she couldn't have him in her life,

then surely she ought to in her

forever-lasting death?

whispering 'you're welcome' to april,

the final 12:15 train below was hurtling towards

us at a break-neck pace.

matthew's eyes widened, his mouth

flapping open in a wide 'O', frozen to

his face in an eternal, agonising

scream, lost to the undertones of the

loud train, as he disappeared under those

heavy, whirring wheels. forever.

i murdered matthew sayers, skye.

and nobody saw me, so nobody knew that...

i had shoved him over the railings.