Alamort

52. Priya

Paramore - I Caught Myself

T he night loses its comforting embrace with the new knowledge I’ve gained about my Shadow and River. Usually, I listen to River whenever she tells me to go. She’s been at Cox Academy a lot longer than I have, dealt with the Demons’ presence more often than me. I’ve never thought to question it. River has been nothing but kind and welcoming to me since I have arrived. But what threw me off was the way she tensed up the night I told her what I had discovered about Megan Riley. All the times I’ve asked or brought it up, she’s brushed me off by changing the subject or warning me away from it. Intuition told me to stay behind and listen to her and the Shadow Man.

That’s because she knew. She knew what happened to Megan. I was unable to catch most of their hushed argument, but I heard what I needed to hear. From both of them. A confession.

The dwindling chirps of the crickets matched the waning energy of the night, while the biting chilly wind seemed to carry with it a sense of deceit and confusion that infiltrates my thoughts.

When River finally caught up with me, I brushed her off by telling her I wanted to go home. With a soft ding, the elevator doors open and I exit. River faithfully trails behind me. On the other side of that door, I can almost hear the serene silence beckoning me. I just need to get there. The hallway seems to grow longer the more I walk.

“Pri—”

“Thank you for everything. I mean it.” I cut her off mid-sentence, attempting to mask my annoyance with a feigned cheerful expression.

“Priya. We need to talk.”

Without thinking, I instinctively cross my arms over my stomach. Avoiding eye contact, she keeps her gaze fixed on the floor as I impatiently tap my foot.

“D-did you hear?”

“Yeah.” Enough of it, but it would be stupid to tell her how much I heard. I would rather her rat herself out, thinking I heard it all.

“How much?” She wrings her fingers, twisting her hands. “I was going to tell you.”

I scoff, avoiding her first question. “When? Just like you were going to tell me about the bet?” She had time. The perfect time was when she admitted to murdering her rapist. Maybe throwing in that she knew what happened to the missing girl everyone refuses to acknowledge would have been a perfect time.

She shrinks away from me, “No, I mean it. It just never seemed like the right time.”

A laugh escapes me. “Right… I’ve heard this before.” Screw this, turning my back on her like I should’ve when she showed up at my door the first day we met. My hand reaches for the knob, the cool metal beneath my fingertips.

“He’s my brother!”

In an instant, my hand freezes, and I spin around to face her.

“S- I mean Mal is my brother.” She corrects.

Mal. My Shadow’s name is Mal. The name doesn’t suit him. Struggling to find words, my mouth moves in silence while tension coils within my muscles.

“Your brother? Are you kidding?” I shake my head. “You said you had one little brother.”

“I do…” With a gesture, I motion for her to go on. There’s more. “But I also have older brothers.”

“I’ve told you everything and you couldn’t even have the decency to tell me I was fall-” I stop myself from revealing anything more. “That he was your brother?”

This is the red flag I wanted to ignore. She mentioned it to Mason after Bennett outed my sister. I was reluctant to accept the fact that she might hide things from me. That she would come to me when she was ready.

My truths, my sister, I poured my heart out to her. Leaning against the metal door, I clutch my chest as a sudden, sharp pain shoots through me.

“Did you know?” My voice cracks. Our eyes meet, tears well up in hers.

“Priya, please! Let me explain! It’s not what you think!” Behind her hand, a muffled sob breaks free.

“You knew about everything. Every time I cried. You were there holding me. After Oscar tried to,” Unable to stomach the words, “every bad thing that happened to me… You were there. River… I gave you a piece of me that not even my sister had.” Each word is a knife, piercing through the cracks in my heart, intensifying with every second that passes. “I trusted you.” My lip wobbles. Tears stream down her face, smudging her makeup in dark streaks.

After everything… It was all a lie. Is the Shadow man in on all of this, too? Not just Megan Riley, but the horror and humiliation I’ve been facing.

Did I let myself become blindsided because I wanted to be worth something to someone so badly? Weak. I’m fucking weak. I knew better than to trust anyone, and I did it anyway. How could I be so stupid? I let her inside my heart.

Pathetic. No one can replace Addison.

With an uneven step, I fumble for the key and finally unlock the door. Before I’m able to take a step in, she tugs on my arm.

“Priya! Please! I’m sorry!” I’m unable to hold back my tears any longer.

“Me too, River. I would’ve done anything for you.” I’ve been hurt by everyone in my life. Walked on, tossed to the side and discarded, and I refuse to die allowing people to think I’m okay with it. “But fuck you.”

Throwing myself into my room, I slam the door in her face. Collapsing to the floor, I curl into a ball, clutching my legs and muffling my cries as I release a scream so powerful it could shake the very foundation of the room. A scream that could bring the roof down. That spoke to the world of my pain. One that bore the same scars and disfigurement as my own wounded soul.

Why me? Can’t I catch a break? Why can’t I be good enough for once? My cheeks flush with heat, and it spreads to my ears, then descends from head to toe. With legs trembling, I summon the courage to complete my mission. A haunting stillness descends upon me, extinguishing the flames of anger and pain.

Friendship heartbreak is something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. It’s worse than a boyfriend breakup. But nothing is worse than losing a best friend and this will be the second time. The last time.

“Alamort,” I whisper, “To be half dead, or exhausted, but it can be used to mean ‘to the death’. That will be our word for the day, Addi.” I wait for a response, a sign that she’s listening. If there is nothing after death, then she can’t hate me for what I’m about to do. After all, that’s what I am. Barely existing, hanging on by a thread.

When the tears dry on my face, I stumble through the darkness, navigating my way to the bed by tripping over the rug that peaks out from underneath the frame. On my hands and knees, I reach for my black bag, holding the contents that I need to end my shitty existence. Whoever said that misery loves company lied.

A dim light switches on, stretching to the edges of the bed, enough to shine on my bag.

“Priya. I’ve been waiting for you.”

The unfamiliar monotone voice of a man causes flight or freeze to kick in as a wave of icy coldness floods through my veins. My heart thunders through my ears.

“We’re long overdue for a chat. You can call me… Mr. K.”