Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Chapter Three
Emulate, not imitate.
It's a trick my half-sister taught me when we were young, and Brenda had to play warden every time Astro locks me in my room for not doing what's normal and acceptable.
You're a Petinos, Kayra.
Standing out will only get you killed.
Until you're strong enough to protect yourself, you need to pretend you're like the rest.
In those days, Astro couldn't understand why I was being rebellious for no seeming reason, and neither did I.
My father wanted me to show remorse because it was the normal thing to do—-but why must I feel bad about beating up a boy in my class, when that same boy was guilty for bullying another boy?
He wanted me to shed tears when a great-aunt of mine passed away, but why must I pretend to be sad, when the person who died used to call me a freak?
We fought, and we fought, and we fought, and Papa and I might have even ended up killing each other if not for my older half-sister coming up with a life-saving little trick.
Brenda was like my guardian angel on earth, and a living saint to everyone else. She wasn't that smart or pretty, but she was the kindest person I ever knew, and it was through her kindness that she realized I was not bad, but just different.
And she loved me despite of it.
Brenda loved me even when I was cold and mean. She loved me even when I kept pushing her away. My older sister loved me until the day she died, and by loving me she became my way out of the darkness.
Just because you don't understand something doesn't mean you should stop trying. It's enough that you know it's the right thing to do.
I know I said my sister wasn't all that smart, but I never said she wasn't wise.
All works of fiction are but a snapshot of life.
If there's something you just want to understand—-
Look for a snapshot that reminds you of what you're going through and learn from it.
I always felt like I was a bomb about to go off every time Astro asked me to pretend to be something I was not. But it was different when Brenda asked me to emulate what I saw in a movie or read in a book, and my life wasn't the only thing that little trick saved.
Every time I felt more monster than human, that little trick also saved other people's lives—-
You have a good heart, Kay.
It's a heart that wants to do the right thing.
So trust your heart, always.
'Emulating' isn't pretending, and Brenda's life-saving trick has never been about denying who I am. The monster inside of me might be here to stay, but as long as I have the proper 'snapshots' guiding my way, I can still be a 'better' me and not kill anyone.
It's how I've been surviving all this time, and when I look at my so-called perfect match, the heart I'm supposed to trust only has one thing to say.
He-Man!
He-Man!
He-Man!
My heart keeps chanting it even as our train finally speeds off, and we both take our seats with the kind of efficiency most often seen in people who know what it's like to kill or get killed. Great criminal minds don't just think alike. We are just as quick on our feet, since being slow is the fastest way to get yourself caught (was that a pun I just made?).
The two of us hear a noticeable clink as we sit down, but his lips only twitch even though we both know the sound is our guns bumping into each other under the table, muzzle to muzzle.
"You don't mind at all?" I ask with genuine surprise. Thomas will probably chew me out for being paranoid, but I'm just being myself. Isn't that how it's supposed to be when two people are thinking of dating?
"What don't I mind? Your gun pointed at my cock?"
"Yes." My cheeks feel just a tad warmer when I answer him, which is surprising to say the least, since I've never been the type to blush at hearing the word 'cock' uttered in my presence.
"I don't mind at all." He looks at me politely. "I hope you feel the same?"
"About you pointing your gun at me?"
"Your pussy to be exact—-" His tone has gotten noticeably sly, and this, too, is a surprise. "But yes, that."
It's just surprise after surprise with this man, and it's all because of how he seems to be flirting with me like his ex-FBI connections haven't given him access to my records.
"No, I don't mind," I say finally, and because it's so rare for me to be this curious, the words simply come flying out. "Are you always like this on blind dates?"
"Like what?"
"Vulgar."
A lazy smile slowly curves over his lips, and I'm stunned at how the sight has me catching my breath.