79

GARETH For as long as I can remember, there’s been a void inside me. An emptiness that can’t be filled, sustained, or eliminated. It’s like a hole of nothingness, stretching wider and deeper every day, every month, every year. At first, I despised it. That thing that made me different from my parents. That thing that made me different from other kids my age. But then I saw Kill embrace it. He had a void, too, but he called it a superpower. He was proud of it—proud of his brain, his perception, his ability to crush others under his heel. He didn’t hide it. He flaunted it, doing whatever he wanted, whenever and however he wanted. But not me. Because, unlike Kill, I care what Dad thinks. I need his approval. I love his approval. I crave it. The thought that he might one day look at me with disapproval like he did with Kill is my worst nightmare. So I stitched that void up with pieces of my soul and shoved it into the darkest corner of my mind. The closest I’ve ever come to filling it was