Maximus
I'M NOT INTIMIDATED by the butterknife she intends to lodge into my skull.
I don't find that intimidating at all. I'd prefer it, actually. I'd much prefer it to what I'm feeling. What I'm starting to get used to. What I'm starting to dependent on.
These thirty days are you in two weeks. Then she's gone. I just get addicted to her and she snatches it away.
Yeah, butcher knife sounds good.
I grip the edges of my bathroom sink, my knuckles turning white. I have no strength to lift my head, right now.
"You're dead to me," I said, upon giving myself one more look in the mirror.
I run my hair, blowing out a sharp breath.
"God," I murmur, "This is f****d all the way up."
A small but persistent knock on the door makes me smirk
"Fired!" She yells, "Mommy said hurry up, she's getti
