Chapter 36: Death is Overrated

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Heaven.

Last words are supposed to be sappy, and I don't know what mine should be. I'm a superhero. I don't say sweet, dramatic things. I make one liners and crappy puns.With my slashed neck and sucky healing factor, the grim reaper is licking his lips. If there were ever a time for last words, it's now. Gats clings to me, cooing pretty lies about everything being alright. I call bullshit.

I'm prepared to die. At least, I should be, but not near Gats. I want to fade painlessly, like an old Madonna song people grin at when they hear. I want Gats to smile at the thought of me and laugh at the 'good old days.' I don't want to cause him any hurt; I don't want him to grieve.

Jaylin pulls ahead. "I'll talk to Fallout. See what he can do."

Gats only hugs me tighter in response. Tingles race up my body. This is my fault, me with my stupid 'power.'

I don't want to believe it, I really don't, but the more I think about it, I do. I remember Poison escorting me from my prison. His words won't leave.

"Welcome to the siren club. Instead of shiny badges and coupons we get freaking heartbreak and mistrust. Glad you could join!"

"Shut up! I don't have that stupid power."

"Yeah, you do, and it's strong. Think about it; the boy you kissed to break my spell, you gave him a face full of that pheromone stuff. He's in love with you. He'd die for you, and it's all your fault."

"Please, Hev." Gatsby's man-perfume stings my nose. "You're my Juliet and I'm your Romeo. If you die, I do too." Dammit! No! I hate Romeo and Juliet. I want to die alone; I don't want to take anyone with me. "Listen, Gats, you don't know what you're saying." Every word hurts. I should save my energy, but I need to get this out. "Let go of me."

"No, you listen to me, you'll be fine."

"I'm so sorry," I say, digging my hand in his. The world's draining away. This is my hero's sacrifice. "I didn't know I'd do this to you."

"What are you talking about? I love you!"

"No. I-I have a power—"

"Look, Heaven," he says, "save your strength. You can tell me later."

"There won't be a 'later.'" 

Gatsby leans against a wall, Jaylin's desperate appeals to Fallout ringing through the hall like a death sentence. Fallout will never let me leave. I'll die here. And that's okay.

My neck numbs. Gats says something, but I can't quite hear it. Warmth trickles over my skin, and I want to sleep. I see a light. It's the oddest thing, dying a stupid, cliche death, but it feels so good I want to slip into it. Why cling to misery? I seal my eyes, so numbed I'm excited to leave. I imagine Angel comforting Gats. "Well, hey, at least Heaven's in heaven." It's almost funn—

Oh my God. GATS. ANGEL. 

My time isn't up. It can't be. I don't care if I see the fucking light! To hell with eternal peace! If Gats pulls a Romeo, he'll leave scaredy-Angel all alone in this big bad world. It isn't Gatsby's fault he loves me this much. And to be honest, I love him too. My hero's sacrifice isn't to die, it's to live.

I lose myself in the murkiness. A woman's voice echoes in my ears. "Heaven?" Gatsby's embrace melts. Reality seems to trickle away, and I'm not even 'here' anymore. Oh, crap. I'm not in the mood for an out of body experience. Three weeks ago maybe, but now, no. The Universe, however, doesn't give a flying fadoodle about my "mood" or desperate desire to live, so here I am, standing in my lair.

Mom's here too, her back to me as she studies a book shelf. "Confucius, huh?" My heart twists. Vanilla stings my nose, and I can't help the smile that seems to hijack my face. She turns to look at me. 

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