Page 4 of Eat Me Alive
I point at the misprint. “Yeah, you’re making me worried.”
“It’s a simple formatting mistake.” He says.
I swallow back a retort. I’m obsessively detail-oriented and even the smallest mistake irks me. Some might even call it a disorder, but I refuse to put names on what I did. Labels. I’m fine, just a bit too neurotic.
I need a change, a break from the bleakness of modern society. To be honest—my anxiety aside—I am excited for this opportunity that’s why I sign away despite having not personally applied for this. Yes, I checked my list after we got out of the diner.
“When do I start?” I ask the director.
“Say your goodbyes, we will leave early in the morning. I’ll pick you up.”
“Thatsoon?”
“Yes, no need to pack anything. Every item is especially created to not harm the island.”
“But I need to settle some payments, my house—”
He cuts me off. “Everything will be taken care of by Moriarty.”
When Ingar Lunden leaves, I’m left to stare at my phone. I’m tempted to tell Mother I was going to leave for a great expedition with Moriarty Organics. That she was wrong—thatbotany is a legitimate career and I’m not a failure. But then I remember my NDA. It says I could never say anything about it. So instead of telling her the truth, I just say I’m going on a great adventure—not technically a lie. My first weak attempt at rebellion.
She doesn’t take this very well. She’s upset with me to the point she babbles on about gratitude again.
I close my eyes as I tune her out, only to be torn away with the last words she spoke before angrily hanging up.
“You’re a waste of space, a waste of investment. I regret the day I let the doctors rip you out of my belly.”
I feel nothing. I’m numb. Cold to the bone. Come night, I struggle to sleep. I’m terrified of the dark so I always need my night light on. Softly, I wish to dream of the mouth again.
I just need a friend.
Xiaoyu
I like the thought of solitude, but I’m in love with a peaceful mind amidst chaos. The one who can remain gentle, serene, kind in difficult situations. Not a mind on fire—that one always bites more than they can chew. My strict regimen came from years under Mother’s watchful eye. It has created an impenetrable wall in me that keeps me guarded and isolated from people.
It’s why I’ve had no boyfriend since college. The years after, I’d been stuck in a loveless engagement with a man Mother arranged for me. A Han heir. He’d been nice, never said a mean word to me, but I could see he’d been just as trapped as I was.
Two years of engagement had been an insane stretch, and we’d worn out both our family’s patience. It’d been a mutual break-up for us. Ever since then, Mother’s disdain for me worsened. And ever since then, I knew within myself I would always be alone.
I move the only potted plant in my house closer to a window and water it. It’s a miniature jade plant, one of the most resilient species of succulents. Ironic since I’m a botanist. I should have plants in my own space, but I can never subject them to living in this house Mother can tear down anytime. I’m not sure when I will return, but hopefully it’s still alive when I come back.
The mirror I just passed has always been covered. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. It’s always a jump-scare. I hate how I need to keep my hair short and tied. If I don’t, I will leave a trail of them everywhere I go.
Locking the door, I quietly make my way to my driveway where the expensive car Mother got me is parked. On the other side is my little scooter.
“Professor Lin?”
I turn and see Ingar Lunden. He’s wearing dark hiking clothes with something strapped around his thigh. I can only guess what it is.
“I have to park my—”
“Moriarty will do that. Keys, please.”
I want to lash out. Tell him I can park my own car then remember we are on a time-crunch. I toss him the keys, and he nods at my satchel.
“What’s inside?”
“I only brought a couple of my notes, a pen—”
