Such a difficult choice.

I reach into the cage and grab her chin. “Admiring my prey.”

She tries to swat my hand away, but I grab her wrist and shake my head. “Uh-uh. If you want me to be nice, you have to behave.”

“You don’t do nice,” she says.

I smile. “Hmm … you might be right on that part.”

“Once,” she adds.

“Once what?”

“You were nice … once.”

My smile dissipates. “It was all a lie. Fake. Just like you.”

The hurt in her eyes is like food to my soul. “You don’t mean that. You just want to hurt me.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Is it working?” I jest.

“Oh, fuck off …” she mutters, frowning.

“No, but if you ask nicely, I might fuck you later.”

She winces. “As if I would ever let you.”

Turning her head with my fingers, I lean in closer and whisper in her ear, “That’s a lie. You and I both know you never have and never will be able to resist me.”

I can’t stop my tongue from dipping out to lick her neck. Just one taste is enough to send a shiver down my spine. Fuck, she’s still as delicious as I remember, and those goosebumps on her skin only add to my excitement.

I turn her head toward me and smile against her skin. “Try to deny it, Vanessa. You can’t, and I won’t ever believe you. You see, I know you. I know who you are, what you are, and you’ll never be able to hide behind those lies. Not in front of me.”

She swallows, her entire body trembling as I gaze deeply into her eyes, taking in the fear that resides in them. And then I smash my lips on hers.

I kiss her hard and callously, not giving a shit about whether or not she wants it. I’m going for it. I’m taking what’s mine now. She’s in a cage, and she can’t fight me. Not that she wants to. She’s whimpering into my mouth as I kiss her deeper, not taking her lips off me, even though I bet she’s telling herself in her mind that she should.

She can’t. Just like I can’t take my fucking mouth off hers. She’s so fucking attractive; it’s impossible to stay away from her. The memories from long ago come flooding back in, and the more I think about them, the more I remember why I wanted her to be mine.

Once, long ago, when we weren’t an asshole and a bitch set out to ruin each other’s lives.

She must’ve been tapping into the same memory because suddenly she pulls away and jerks her arm loose. Her swollen lips are parted, and the look on her face is appalled. Appetizing.

“What … was that?” she mutters.

“Me, taking what belongs to me.”

“I don’t belong to you,” she hisses, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You see this cage?” I say, pointing to the bars. “It, and all the contents within, belongs to me. I own you now.”

“In your dreams,” she says.

“If you only knew …” I say.

“Did you dream of killing me too, then?” she taunts. “Did you spend every waking thought thinking about all the ways you’d make me bleed for what I’ve done?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I have.”

She laughs patronizingly. “Well, isn’t that contradictory. You want to kiss me, and you want to kill me.”

“Exactly,” I say, folding my arms. “I’m going to fuck your body. I’m going to fuck your mind. And, in the end, I’m going to fuck you up. Guess what those three things have in common?”

“You’re fucked-up,” she says.

I laugh. “I guess there are four things, then.”

“God …” she says, averting her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s come to this. You really plan to keep me in this cage, don’t you? Like some kind of pet?”

I reach into the cage, and she backs away to the corner, but she can’t escape my grasp. I pat her on the head and say, “Like a perfect pet.”

“Screw you,” she says, spitting on my hand. “You disgust me.”

“Why? Because I’m treating you the same way that you treated me? Like some kind of pet you can toy with?” I wipe my hand on her cheek. “You’re just getting a taste of your own medicine.”

She suddenly latches onto my arm and pulls it toward her then she bites me.

“Fuck!” I retract my arm and look at the mark on my underarm. She’s punctured my skin with her teeth, blood bubbling to the surface. “You fucking bitch!”

She spits again. “Yuck.”

I walk to the backside of her cage and reach for her hands. When she tries to back away, I grab them and twist her arms to the point of her squealing. “Ow! That hurts!”

“Yeah, probably not as much as that wound you just gave me. Fucking hell. You’ll pay for that.” I grab my belt and wrap it around her wrists again, tying her to one of the bars of the cage. “That’s for trying to fuck with me.”

“What are you going to do? Hurt me?” she mocks. “You were already going to do that, so I figured why not hurt you, too? At least then you’re not the only one having fun.”

Grinding my teeth, I slam the cage with a flat hand, almost wanting to just snap her neck and get it over with. But I won’t. That’s exactly what she wants, and she’s taunting me, trying to coax me to kill her, but I won’t fall into that trap.

A single bite won’t persuade me to change plans, and I won’t allow her to make me think of ending this any sooner than exactly when I want it to.

“You fucking do that again, and I will cut you in places you won’t enjoy,” I warn, holding up my knife for her to see. “It’s not just a threat, Vanessa. I will do it if you don’t behave.”

She looks at me for a second, and then, out of nowhere, she starts laughing. “Oh, Phoenix … that’s what you call yourself now, isn’t it?” she hums. “I don’t think you know me well enough.”

I squint. “Hmm … let’s put that to the test, shall we?” The left side of my lip tugs because I can’t help but feel anxious to start. “We’re going to have so much fun together. Just like back in the old days.”

***

Age 12

I don’t know why Vanessa is friends with me, or why she even bothers to talk to me. Nobody ever tries. Or maybe they’re just afraid of me. I’d be, so I don’t blame them. My fists have a mind of their own.

I always feel so angry whenever someone tries to hurt me. It’s as if a switch turns on inside my head, and all I can think of is ramming into whatever is in front of me. Whether it’s a wall or a human; nothing escapes my wrath.

And still she wants to hang out with me. Every day after school, she makes a little bit of time for me in her busy schedule, even though we both know she can’t spare it. Her parents have her on such a difficult schedule that it’s tough for her to keep up with homework. I don’t understand why they’re so harsh on her. She deserves better than that. If I had parents like that, I’d have run away long ago. But not her … nuh-uh, she keeps trying to make them happy. I don’t know why because they keep telling her that she’s done something wrong or bad. They never approve of her, so I don’t get why it matters to her so much. It’s as if she still believes that they’ll finally be happy if she performs well enough.

But I’ve already seen it. They’ll never be close to happy. They have the same look in their eyes as the caretakers at the orphanage did, back when I still lived there. My foster parents don’t look at me that way. Even though they don’t know what to do with me, they don’t dislike me. Vanessa’s parents look at her like she’s worthless. Like she means nothing. Or maybe they’re just hoping for something that isn’t there.

I don’t understand why people can’t just leave each other alone and let them be. Maybe she doesn’t want to do so much homework. Maybe she wants to play with me, and they should let her do what she wants. Why don’t they want to see her happy? Do they only care about themselves?

I guess, since they hate having me around too, even though I’m the only one bringing a smile to her face every once in a while. The way they look at me makes me lean back every time I’m at their door. They look like they see a ghost. That, or I smell rotten. I don’t know which one it is.