Chapter 1

Exiting a broken-down gas station, I feel the warm, gritty wind playfully tangle my long, blonde locks. As I scan the huge sandy landscape stretching out before me, the bright sun burns my skin, and I think about where we should head too next.

As Eli enters my line of sight after appearing from the male restroom to my right, he closes the gap between us, peering at me over the rims of his sunglasses. He is dressed in a white tank top paired with worn, tattered jeans and his blonde hair dances, mirroring the gusty chaos around us as he adjusts himself.

When he is within reach, I offer him one of the cold bottles of water I had just bought. He accepts it, but I catch him lifting his sunglasses fully, his gaze drifting up to the grimy window. Curious, I move closer, taking my sunglasses off my face to look at the weathered poster that has a circus on it, the faded letters drawing me in.

Oddity Carnival he is a recovering heroin addict, and I have battled with self-harm. In each other's company, we've found peace in a strange way, a refuge from our fucked-up pasts. But love? That's a concept I struggle to grasp. I'm not sure if I'm even capable of it.

Despite my appreciation for Eli being in my life, there's a barrier between us—a barrier built from my hesitation to talk about my past. It's difficult for me to fully open up and show the darkness that lurks within me. Maybe that's what stops me from feeling any romantic love for him or it might be the fact that he doesn't make me feel anything at all. Yeah, we're in a sexual relationship, even if it lacks, but to me, that's all it is: friendship. I suppose it's more like friends with benefits, two people finding some kind of calm in each other's company during their lonely lives.

I know Eli possibly loves me, although he has never said it, and that realization weighs heavy on my heart. He shouldn't be in love with someone as damaged as I am. The wounds that scar my soul run deep, hidden from prying eyes, never to be shared despite the desperate need for someone to rely on. Trust issues cling to me like shadows, making it nearly impossible for me to show my true self to anyone.

Revealing the truth about who I am would leave me vulnerable, exposed not just to judgment and rejection but to death. Nothing in my life has ever been simple, and I am anything but simple. So, I keep my horrifying secrets locked away, protecting myself from the pain of letting someone in too close. It's a lonely existence, but it's the only one I know how to control.

The ache for my sister, Arabella, claws at me like a relentless itch, a gaping wound that refuses to heal. The thought of her out there lost and alone, hurts me. She was the only family I had left, and she was the only person who was there for me when no one else was. We ran together, but somewhere along the way, we were torn apart. Since that day, I've just hoped that she is still alive, but the thought that she might not be drives me into madness. My secret search for her has consumed me, pushing me to the brink of insanity as I try to explore every corner of the United States, desperate to locate her and until I find out what happened to my sister, I don't think I will ever find closure.

Sitting here, just the thought of her sends my heart into a frantic rhythm, hammering against my chest. My palms grow clammy, my mind swirling with the memory of her long, dark hair blowing in the rainy wind and her piercing blue eyes that would see right through me. Desperate for calm, I instinctively reach for my pills, stored inside the dash compartment and with trembling hands, I tilt my head back, popping a couple into my mouth before swallowing them down in the hope of squashing the anxiety that is threatening to boil over.

As the medication takes effect, I lean back with a heavy sigh, the tension slowly subsiding. I catch Eli's gaze out of the corner of my eye, but I can't bring myself to meet it, instead, I focus on the warmth of his hand sliding into mine.

"You alright?" he asks, his voice gentle.

With my head rested back, I face him, offering a soft smile. "I'm fine," I reassure him. "We're not too far away now and we should get there by the time it's dark."

His nod is filled with concern before he shifts his focus back to the road ahead, and my thoughts drift to the time when Eli first found me. He wasted no time in getting me the help I desperately needed, taking me to a doctor who prescribed medication that feels like a fucking lifeline. The pills make me numb, and offer a brief respite, allowing me to catch my breath.

Yet, despite their efficacy, I still find myself fighting with the insatiable urge to inflict pain upon myself. It is a twisted compulsion that I struggle with, especially in moments of depression. Pain, for me, is not just a beautiful sensation—it's a distraction, a means of escape from the relentless suffering in my mind. It's a contradictory haven, offering both release and peace from the chaos that rages inside me, quieting the urges that claw at my sanity.

Since my early teenage years, I had harboured the craving for self-harm. Blocking out what I was going through, I made pain my main focus, and I became obsessed with the feeling. It began innocently enough, with habits like pulling my hair out or pinching my skin since I didn't have access to anything else, but it wasn't until I left Chicago behind that I somehow found comfort with the razor's edge.

As my eyes trace the patterns of scars along Eli's arm, I notice how different they are from mine. They aren't the jagged slashes that spoil my forearms and inner thighs; instead, they are red dots, remnants of the toxic needles that once punctured his veins. When I first met him, he was already on his prescribed methadone, a huge step in his journey toward recovery from addiction and although I've never seen him inject heroin, I have seen the toll of withdrawal and the effects of his medication. I have never judged him for it, Eli has always been open about his struggles and it has built a bond of understanding between us, even if I have not been completely truthful with him in return.

We made a pact to never harm ourselves again in such destructive ways and so far, we've both stayed true to our word.