GENRE: Paranormal Romance
I break everything I touch.
That’s what my mother always told me. She thought the whole, ‘This is why we can’t have nice things,’ bit was invented with me in mind. I don’t think I was a particularly destructive kid – I was just a boy. I couldn’t help it.
I guess I still can’t help it.
“Mom?” I whisper, stepping into the room.
She doesn’t answer. She just sits on the edge of my old bed. Her hands are folded in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles. Her long, graceful fingers coil into her palm, and I open my mouth to speak.
I want to tell her I’m okay, by some miracle I’m alive, but no words come out. They gurgle, trapped in my chest. Looking down, I see the shirt I wore earlier had been cut away. I blink to clear my vision, and find only the faintest smears of dried blood on my skin. And the
hole. A hole no bigger than a dime.
I raise my hand. The metal studs on my leather wrist band flash in the light from the sconce on the wall. I press my fingers to the hole. I need to muffle the odd sucking sound that should have been my breath.
It doesn’t work.
The hole is empty, dark, and fathomless, burrowing straight through me. I grope at my back, choking on my own blood when I feel the ragged edges of the much larger void in my back.