sroni

… So, I might need help hiding a body.

Well, not yet, because I haven’t killed the guy yet.

But I’m going to.

As soon as he starts talking to me again.

I swear, what is it about me that causes guys to decide to protect me by DISAPPEARING FROM MY LIFE?

I’m going to kill the boy. I swear it.

Flat out murder him, kill him, hide the body.

’Course, to do it, I’ll have to sneak onto an Air Force base, and then get him off of it, and kill him and hide the body. Pretty sure that’ll leave a trail.

I’m so angry and hurt right now. I want to hit him, I want to hug him. I want to tell him I hate him, and tell him I love him. I want to hurt him, I want to promise him that no one will ever hurt him again. I want to tell him to go to hell, and I want to tell him that I’ll never leave him, and I’ll follow him wherever he goes, even the hell that I just told him to go to.

No, this is not romantic. This is my little “adopted” brother. We adopted each other seven months ago, and for the last month, he hasn’t talked to me at all. He even hung up on me the one time that I managed to get hold of him.

Since then, I’ve taken to leaving him voice mails. “This is your daily reminder that you’re my brother, and I love you. I’m always going to be your sister, and you’re always going to be my brother.”

Last night, he called me, called me BY NAME, which he just doesn’t do; I call him Kip, and he calls me Kate. He gave me exactly five minutes, and apparently he hasn't been listening to my daily reminders; he’s just been deleting them. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions, and hung up when the five minutes were done, with no warning. (He told me at the beginning of the call that I had five minutes, and then he was hanging up. So there was that warning.) He wants me to hate him. I gathered that much.

For some reason, he’s decided that I need protecting. (He decided this months ago.) And now he’s decided that the best way to protect me is to cut himself out of my life.

I’m not fragile. I’m not china. I’m stoneware, darn it. I’ve worked hard for it, too. I don’t need protecting, although it’s nice that people want to do so. But I could do just fine without it.

I’m going to kill the boy for putting me through this.

And then I’m going to hunt down all the other guys that’s decided that the best way to protect me is to leave me. I’m going to kill them all, every last bastard.

Because as much as I love them, I am SERIOUSLY pissed off at them.

I love them. I really do. The fact that they’re not dead yet is proof of that.