Pretend With Me (Midnight Society #1)

is the darkest place, and
sometimes the darkest place is the
only place where we could
discover something real.

I stopped outside the bedroom door, hesitating for just
a second. Then slowly I raised a shaking hand and pushed
the door open, silently praying that by some miracle he
would be okay. The door swung open in slow motion and
at the same time it filled the room with a loud creaking,
ghost-like sound. Instantly the strong scent of blood filled
my nose and I choked back the urge to turn and run from
the room. My stomach turned as I thought about whose
blood it was that I was smelling. I swallowed, forcing my
feet to move, to carry me into the room to meet a scene I
knew would haunt me.

The moment I saw him, my heart launched off,
crashing in my chest violently. I could hear it pounding in
my ears and I felt as though my ribcage was going to crack
open at any second. Suddenly I could no longer stand
there anymore - I couldn’t take it - and I ran to him,
collapsing at his side, cradling his head on my lap. Tears
streaked down my face, falling onto his head.

My hand flew to my mouth in horror as I took in the
sight of all the blood. It seemed to be oozing from every
part of his body. I wanted to scream at him - to yell at him
for doing this - for getting himself hurt while protecting
me.

Suddenly I w as screaming at the top of my lungs. It
didn’t make sense, Daren was gone and nothing made
sense anymore. I yelled and screamed at the pain exploding
inside me. It hurt so much. I just wanted it to stop, but I
didn’t know how to make it all go away. My heart was on
fire, aching and being twisted and ripped apart. I didn’t
know how to deal with him being gone and all I could do
was scream. Scream and scream and scream…

How could he leave me? How could he be so stupid
and think that, even for a second, I would be okay without
him? Daren had left me alone and with nothing. He was
gone and I needed him. How could he do that to me? I
loved him and he was gone. I would do anything for him;
so how could he leave me just like that?

He asked me to trust him and I had. He wanted my
love and I gave it to him wholeheartedly, without ever
once second-guessing him. When he asked me to marry
him, I agreed without thinking twice about it. I would have
given him anything he wanted, all he had to do was live -
stay alive and be with me. But he was gone. He didn’t
fight. Had he held on a few seconds more help would have
come. How could he just leave me? Didn't he know that
this would break me?

I woke up screaming and to the sound of my mom’s
voice as she shook me. My face was wet with tears and, as
soon as I realized I was dreaming, I sealed my mouth shut
sitting up on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” my mom asked,
rubbing the middle of my back, trying to comfort me as
she always would every morning I woke up screaming. It
never worked; nothing could comfort me.

As always, I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk. It
was too painful to talk about. Almost three weeks had
passed since that night and I hadn’t talked about it. Not
talking was the only way I knew to survive. Not allowing
myself to feel the overwhelming ache was the only way I
didn’t hang myself from the ceiling or walk in front of a
speeding truck or take my dad’s hunting gun and blow a
pretty hole through my head. I'd spent hours upon hours

thinking about all of these things and had I not yet found
a way to ease the pain. I knew that I might have done a lot
more than just think of these things again.

My mom sighed, squeezing my hand and I knew what
her next words would be even before she spoke them; it
was the same routine every morning. “Well if you need to
talk, I’m here. Remember that, okay?” Silently I nodded.
“Breakfast is done, come down when you’re ready.” Again
I just nodded without saying anything.

I don’t remember getting ready for school, or even
eating breakfast. In fact, I’m not sure I had breakfast, but
somehow I found myself standing in front of the school I
was now going to.

Just after Daren’s funeral, I had left my West Indian
home in Trinidad. I couldn’t live there with my aunt
anymore. Everything in Trinidad reminded me of him.
Everything there hurt me. My aunt must have seen this
because after living with her for ten years, she’d sent me
back to my parents without asking questions when I asked
to leave.

Without saying anything to anyone I made my way into
the school and towards the boys’ lockers. When I reached
the correct one and saw that its owner was nowhere
around, I took off my bag and sat down in front of the
locker, leaning back on its door. I then got out Daren’s
iPod and, as I stuck the white earphones in my ears,
‘Pieces’ by a band called ‘Red’ began playing. Leaning my
head back on the locker door, I closed my eyes and let the
song flow through me.

Not long after Derek - the owner of the locker showed up. “Back for more I see,” he said and I opened
my eyes to find him staring down at me with an allknowing look plastered on his face. Derek's dad was a
doctor at the local hospital. It put him in a position to
successfully stock up on items for his private 'business'.

Without saying anything I stood up and then stepped
back, putting a little space between us as I reached into my
back pocket, pulling out a handful of crumpled cash.
Derek took that as his cue and he stepped toward me,
closing the distance I’d put between us. His hand then
circled around my waist and pulled my body to him as he
bent his head down towards me.

Every part of me stiffened automatically. I didn’t like
people touching me - my mom was the only exception sometimes. His lips met mine and instantly guilt and
shame flooded me and it wasn’t only because I still felt like
I was cheating on Daren even though he was dead.

I felt him slip something small and hard into my back
pocket and then he took the money from my hand. As
soon as the transfer was complete I pulled away from him
and began to walk away. I went directly to the girls’ toilet
and the instant I shut and locked the door behind me, I
felt my body break apart and shatter.

I was suddenly on the floor dry heaving. My throat was
closed up and I couldn’t breathe, air wouldn't enter my
body. I still felt the holes in me, throbbing and vibrating
with pure agony. Every part of me ached - every cell in my
body was alive and pulsing with pain. I pulled my feet up
to my chest at the same time that I dug out what Derek
had pushed into my back pocket. My hands fiddled with
the small white plastic bag as I ripped it open to reveal a
tiny clear morphine bottle. In the same second, I dug into
my bag and got out a syringe. I then yanked off the cap
and pushed the needle into the bottle, filling the barrel
with the liquid that would soon save me.

I was tired of pretending. I was exhausted and this was
my salvation. The minute I felt it entering my bloodstream,
it was like I was in heaven’s comforting embrace. I let the
numbness take me over then. I wasn’t hurting or breaking
anymore and only that mattered, nothing else.

I was sitting at the back of the classroom, not even
bothering to appear as if I was paying attention. The
teachers here were different from the ones in Trinidad.
Here, no one cared what you did as long as you got
straight A's and were nothing short of a genius.

I hated it here - the teachers, the other students, the
entire fucking school - but I couldn't exactly go back to
Trinidad, where there were too many memories I couldn't
bear to face and things I was trying so desperately hard to
forget.

Sighing, I turned the volume up on Daren's iPod until
it drowned out everything and everyone, only leaving the
song playing. That was when I noticed the feeling. It
started so mildly that for a while it was almost nonexistent
but then it grew and grew until my fingertips began to
prickle and tingle as if millions of tiny straw -like needles
were being shoved into them.

The feeling seeped throughout my body, running up
my arms and along my feet until I could feel it across every
inch of me. It was like my entire body was going haywire,
on super and hyper alert. My heart was pounding in my
chest, my stomach was in tight knots that only clenched
tighter as the seconds dragged on and heated shivers
racked every part of me. There was a need at the pit of my
stomach that kept building and building until suddenly it
became something more than a need. The feeling was an
intense unsatisfied crave to have something, but I didn't
know what. It was painful. Every part of me ached with
the strange need pulling me.

Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore and, without saying
anything to anyone, I grabbed my bag off the floor, got up
and walked out of the classroom. The minute I stood up
my head began floating. A thick haze surrounded me and
all I could think about was the gripping need clawing at my
stomach.

Once in the hallway, I started to walk, blindly following
the pulling and tugging on my skin. I felt high - not the
numbing morphine high I was used to - this was
something different, opposite almost. I walked straight
towards the office and pulled open the door, walking dead
smack into someone. In the haze and grogginess, I
stumbled. But before I could hit the floor two arms shot
out towards me, wrapping around my waist and holding
me firmly against their owner.

My pores rose at this stranger's touch and the instant
his skin met mine the trembling that had so violently
shook my body moments ago stopped. Just like switching
off a light, the pulling inside of my body vanished and the
starving need that had been so intense before subsided.

His arms pulled me closer and tighter to him, making
something deep inside me awaken. I could smell him now.
Instantly his scent filled my nose and it gave me another
dose of whatever drug that had my head spinning.

God, he smelled fucking good. It was like sunshine and
sea breeze. Well at least if the sunshine and sea breeze had
a scent, they would smell the way he did. At least that was
the image that invaded my mind when I breathed him in –
midday or early morning at a calm tropical, blue-watered
beach, with the breeze wafting gently on your face and
through your hair.

Then just like that, I found myself seeing the Mayaro
beach in Trinidad. I remembered going there every week
with Daren, Kris, and all my other friends - people I
couldn't face now - and it was like someone had punched
me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of my body. I
opened my eyes, not even realizing when I had closed
them and the sight before me made me suck in a sharp
breath. He was absolutely beautiful. It was like a dream or
dying and meeting an archangel.

The first thing I noticed about him was his eyes. He
had the most intense and piercing blue eyes that I’d ever
seen. It made me think he was looking straight into my
soul. Black hair fell from his head messily, but it didn't
make him look untidy, just hot. He also had sharp and
strong features, perfectly chiseled lips, a sculpted jaw line
and a straight nose. This close to my eyes, his skin was
flawless. Not a dark spot, scar or blemish tainted his skin
and I began to wonder if all his life he'd been covered in
bubble wrap. He was around my age - twenty at the very
most. His arms were firm on my waist, holding me to him,
and strangely enough it didn't feel threatening or harsh or
make me flinch like I usually did whenever someone
touched me. Instead, his touch was warm and gentle, hard
and strong, yet still somehow comforting.

“Um,” he began and a deep frown pierced his face.
Hearing his voice was like being wrapped in the most
expensive silk that existed and at the sound of it I wanted
to melt at his feet.

Struggling to get my head out of the clouds, I blinked a
few times trying to dispel the haze. Luckily it worked
somewhat and my first thoughts were to thank this kind
and lovely stranger for saving me and never see him again.
“Um, you can... let me go now,” I said awkwardly, yet
didn't move away from him. I didn't really want to.

I couldn't stand people touching me. It reminded me of
that night, when my entire life and world went to absolute
shit. Sometimes I couldn't help flinching from my own
mom, yet I didn't want to leave the arms of this stranger.
He almost made me feel comforted and like I was going to
survive this - live through the crushing pain and guilt.

The most breathtaking and dazzling smile lit his face
and eyes as he straightened himself, dropped his hands at
his side, releasing me. For a moment, all I could manage to
do was stand there, staring at him completely dazed .

“I think you mean ‘Thank you for saving me from
dying of utter humiliation?’” he smirked with a voice that
sounded like liquid fire and smooth silk wrapped into one.

“Yes,” I began, smoothing out my clothes and taking
another step away from him. “Well thanks,” I muttered
and began to walk past him, not sure where I was going or
what I was even doing in the office. I had only taken a few
steps when he caught my hand, preventing me from going
any further.

Immediately I turned around, a mixture of anger and
fear coursing through me. My breaths got uneven and
rough as his fingers tightened around my wrist. It wasn't
painful or forceful, just tight, yet I felt as though he was
about to break me. I couldn't do anything, just stand there,
barely breathing like a deer in headlights as my heart
pounded in my chest.

“I didn’t get your name,” he grinned in overconfidence
as though he expected me to fall at his feet. He was used
to being chased by girls and I could see why.

“I didn’t give it,” I replied masking the fear with
annoyance, as I pulled my hand free, taking a step back.
My eyes never left him. I was so confused. I didn't know
what these feelings were and how to react to them. One
second his touch was comforting and the next it was like
everyone else's - threatening.