DEVILS ? C. G. 〖 #wattys2018 〗

T W O / T H R E E

"I was just settling into school. I had fallen in with the nerds, believe it or not. Studied my ass off, made good grades, but that was literally all I did. My only social interactions were to, like, thank the person holding the door. I guess being an only child had a part in it, I wasn't very sociable in the first place.

"I didn't have much to lose, but when the world went to shit, I lost it all. My house, my mom, the rhythm and pulse of my life, it all went away.

"I remember the first time my dad killed someone. I remember when he made Lucille. And I saw him evolving into something to match the world around him.

"He was the one piece of familiarity left in my life. I thought of him kind of like a thermometer. I took my cues from him. And naturally, consciously, I changed myself to match his new demeanor. Not nearly to the caliber of the past week. But still, I was one scary ball of prepubescence."

April paused, watching Carl's mouth begin to loosen, as if he had something to say. Then he closed his mouth and nodded for April to continue.

April's lips twitched. "Carl, I killed people. I ended lives. I hardly had the understanding or the maturity for what I was doing, but I knew nothing else but my father's leadership."

There was a silence. The room was growing darker as the sun fell closer to the horizon, but April found the air clearer in the dark.

"You want to know something, Carl?"

She breathed.

"This isn't even my real name."

Pause.

"I had reinvented myself so far from my previous self that I thought I needed a different name. My dad loved it. I think he spurred it on, but it was completely my own decision."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Imagine a twelve-year-old, so ruthless and murderous that she thought she was a different person than she was six months ago. That stuff belongs in psychopath movies, not real life."

Carl's voice was soft. "Then why do you still use this name?"

April looked at him, viewing the melancholy in his eye, the way his socket seemed to grow deeper as the moments wore on. "Because that person still lives inside me. And I've lived with her for so many years, that it's hard to tell things apart anymore."

Carl exhaled. "You're right, that's terrifying."

"No kidding."

"Do you want me to call you by—"

April shook her head. "I feel like... like I have to earn it back. Like my name is a trophy that's only deserved in fairness."

The ends of Carl's lips curled slightly. "That's really wise of you."

The air darkened again. April loved Carl's lips. They seemed like the truest part about him. She could always tell by them his rawest emotions. Currently—beleaguered indignation, and an overwhelming sense of compassion.

A pause. "Then what happened?" he asked, shifting his position.

April couldn't help but smile slightly. "It continued, worsened. I met Elle, and only with her could I be nicer. And she knew me well enough, that there was more to me than crude words, but I can't even let myself be completely open with her. It's built into me. I can't fully trust anyone."

A pause, as she gathered her thoughts, noting the irony, then spoke. "But... Elle's smart. She knows things. She knows me."

"Yeah."

"But then there was Oliver."

A cold rush though her body at merely speaking his name. She twitched, erasing the images of fire eating up skin— "My...  my dad. He found another group, about a year ago. Lined them up in a circle, just like yours. My dad used Lucille. Then he took the leader's son, just to mess with him."