Butterfly Trap by TL Fisher

Author:TL Fisher [Fisher, TL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Night passes and morning comes. I'm still sitting in the sunroom with my back against the cool brick when the sun lights up the room. I roll my shoulders to ease the stiffness in my neck and my back. My fingers wrap around the cold revolver, when I lift it into my lap.

Tears gently trail down my face. I love Isaac, but I can't harbor any delusions about him . . . or us. I'm nothing more than a slab of raw meat that bleeds on his counter while he trims away my fat.

Why Isaac?

Why?

Why does life choose to fuck me, over and over and over, again?

To love Isaac is to sacrifice myself, like a sacrificial lamb, whose throat has been ripped open. Blood pours over the alter, pleasing God. Pleasing Isaac.

I love him—yet, I fear him. Part of me wants to walk through the flames with him and try to heal him—the part of me that knows I will never find anyone like him, again.

He has healed so many of my wounds, how can I toss him aside like a broken toy? Because the other part of me knows he is broken. Broken beyond repair. He's not only broken, he's dangerous—like a bicycle with no brakes. We may coast along and everything is fine, but all it would take is one steep descent to race me to my death.

Isaac brought me back to life. For this reason, I do not want to die. Funny how so many times I craved death, to end the nightmares . . . the madness. Now, with fear breathing down my neck, I don't want to die. Not here. Not today. Not ever. Is this what Isaac meant by using my fear? Has survival instinct fully kicked in?

Isaac must die so I might live? Is this what I try to convince myself? Because, it’s all bullshit. I don't want Isaac dead, either.

God . . . please tell me what to do.

Should I leave his fate in your capable hands?

I climb to my feet and stare down at the revolver in my hand. My life hinges on this moment. This decision. What I do cannot be undone. Today I choose between a love I will never feel again . . . and a shallow grave.

I can't do this.

I can't.

Something deep inside, instinctive and nurturing resists the urge to hurt him. The only answer is to walk away. I don't know how I will survive without him. But, I must. I can never look back if I want to keep my sanity.

This was all a dream I imagined. Like Isaac said, "Even your memories must be imagined." I swallow hard, thinking of the richness of his voice. His words burn my memory like a new drug stinging my veins for the first time.

I shift the weight on my feet and take a step forward . . . and then another . . . and then one more. I open the door and take a step out onto the stoop.

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