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I plunge the knife into his heart. I know exactly where it is, and exactly how to hit it. I twist the handle. I take it out and go in for another plunge. He falls; I can tell he's trying to scream. I turn off my head again and hold him down- as I have the last 29 times. All those kids.
Now him.
Out. In. Again.
Breathe. Don't think.
Do it again.
In. Out-
I get startled by a memory, and my hands are caught in mid-air from nothing. We met in kindergarten- "Finn" was on his name tag in cursive handwriting. We were finger painting, and he was using red. It spilled on his shirt, (similarly to how blood is seeping through his clothes now). I was the only one who got paper towels. Years later that red-stained shirt is hung up in a frame, somewhere on one of his walls.
He's still warm beneath me. I look down at him, really look. Feelings claw their way up my throat from the depth of my soul, and I feel tears, real tears, prickle in my eyes.
"I'm sorry." I don't know why I said that. My voice is unrecognizable. I hate it. I hate this. I hate everything. I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate - but I've loved Finn for a long time. The realization almost makes me puke.
There's a voice coming from me but it's not the one I made. It's not the "me" I'm used to. It might as well be the same Cassian from kindergarten. I don't have time to think before I say
"I love you."
There's a pause. The words leave a bittersweet after taste on my tongue. I look at him, beautiful and dying, light being sucked out of his pretty eyes. Pretty? It's more like I'm looking at a supernova in real time whenever I look into those eyes of his.
"I'm sorry I love you I love you I'm sorry"
I don't know which Cass is saying this. I feel like this is a dream, a nightmare, and I need to wake up. Wake up. What am I doing? I need to do this. A million possibilities scream through my head and tears roll freely in a way they haven't in years. I sob, thinking, wondering if I should put a stop to the bleeding or make it worse, and I know that either way, I lose. I'll live forever if I do. I'll die if I don't, and he will kill himself.
I will lose everything, no matter what.
I stop fighting with myself after a minute too long and throw the knife away as I slowly lower my face to his lips. The damage is already done. There's no point but to savor this. For a moment, he weakly tries to kiss back. Our only kiss. How Shakespearean.
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A week ago
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"Cass... I'm so tired.... poor........." Finn mumbled- it's usually sweet but now it just hurts. I pull his quilt up over his shoulders- he lays sprawled on his desk, face wet with tears and drool (starting to get on his research papers smushed underneath him).
I'm running out of time, and I know it. I've been helping him investigate the horrors I caused. I'm selfish, I have always known that, but this is a different kind of selfish. My best friend has the same amount of sand in his hourglass- one of us will be dead by the end of the week. And I can't deal with the choice I know I'll make. He has to die.
There are already 29 kids dead because of me- I'm too deep into this shit hole to start trying to get out. I breathe, and all of the thoughts go away. For a second. And again, I think about the sleeping boy in front of me.
Finn could die from exhaustion, or worse, suicide. Likely the latter. I know him well, too well. I knew I should have never gotten attached, left him behind in first grade like my mother said-
No.
I stand up. I won't let her control me anymore. Finnegan is only the spark that will ignite my freedom. The demon needs its payment, and it will not be me. I refuse to be the sacrifice of her stupidity; of the deal she made before I was born.
I'm almost at Finnegan's window, and I look back at him. I love him so much. But I have to let go. "I'll move on from you." I lie out loud. Finn doesn't move. I leave.
I'll figure it out. Maybe I'll find another soul to be the 30th.
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I took care of him. I don't want the police to find the body this time. He'll hopefully be at peace- and now I have a million lifetimes to try and find my own. Finnegan will be the last innocent life I take- the demon is satisfied.
I bury the love I have for my Finnegan with a few old sentimental pieces I collected over the years. And I disappear off the face of the earth.
It'll never be worth it.
I should have let the demon take me.