Page 23 of Rudimentary Distortion

“Family. That’s my safe word.”

I smiled at her. “That’s an interesting word,”

Billie shrugged. “It’s how I see you and Cain. My dad is great, but he works so much that I only see him two weeks a year. He’s like a traveler popping by to say hello. And my mom, well, you know what that’s like. She’s so hopped up on her pillsthat some days, she doesn’t even recognize me. I’ve always been lonely. At least, I was until you and Cain. The word family seems fitting because that’s how I feel when I’m with the two of you. That I finally have a family. Saying that word if things get too much and knowing you’ll stop is perfect because family puts the needs of those they love over theirs.”

That was the moment I fell fast and deep in love with Billie Richmond and never stopped.

I take one more look at my girl before kissing her head. “I’ll get you back, Billie.”

15

Billie

The sun blares through the window, and I want to kick myself for not shutting the blinds last night. Waking at the ass crack of dawn isn’t amusing.

I turn my face on the pillow and see a battered brown leather notebook with frayed corners on the bedside table. I jump out of bed and unplug the side lamp, holding it up as I scan the room. I’m not sure how much damage I can do with it if someone’s in here, but it gives me a sense of security that fosters my bravery.

My phone buzzes. A text. I grab it.

Unknown:No one’s in your room. I dropped the book off last night while you were sleeping. Read it.

Me:Who the hell is this?

Unknown:Just read the note, Billie Goat.

Lars.

I place the lamp down and walk over to the book, brushing my fingers over it. It has the texture of good quality leather that becomes softer and more flexible with time.

The bed creaks as I sit on the edge and place the book in my lap. I sit for what seems like an eternity, staring at it. Unsure if I want to unleash whatever it holds.

Gently, I open the book and read the first line.

I lost her today.

The dock is a haunted memory of the love that used to be.

I’ve turned my back on her raven hair, finding my world in utter despair.

Rage took hold, and a garden bloomed.

Now I serve a dark master consumed by doom.

I lost her today. But what I truly forgot is me.

I lost her today. Now living simply for yesterday.

Acid burns my throat as another with midnight hair leaves my bed.

I lost her today.

The margin notes catch my eye. Written in large block letters.

I fucking love you, Billie.

Page after page consumed with lyrics and poems with notes to me.

I’m sorry, Billie.