Saint

My hands shook as the knife clattered to the floor. I looked at my blood-stained hands, at the body lying on the floor, my sin seemingly written on the walls. My knees gave out, and I collapsed into the already-spreading red pool, choking on the scent of iron-

I shot up in her bed and clutched my mouth to keep from screaming. I bit my knuckles, tasted blood, then let out a shriek.

"Myla?" my brother said from the doorway, his hair crazy and eyes wide. He rushed to me, and I was enveloped in a tight embrace. My body convulsed with choked sobs, and I clutched Mike's shoulders. He murmured softly to me, strokng my hair as my breathing slowed. I could see the person's face still in my mind. I saw the life fade from their eyes. I saw them drop to the floor, blood spreading to soak my shoes...

"Myla... Myla?" Mike said, shaking me. I shook my head, then looked into his concerned blue eyes, biting my lip. My teeth sliced through, and I tasted blood. I screamed, and Mike scooped me into his arms, running me to the bathroom. He shoved a dripping washcloth on my lip.

The cool liquid dripped into my mouth, clearing the taste of hate, and I took a deep breath. Mike moved my hand to hold the cloth on my mouth, and he went to tend to my hand.

"Myla, if you're hungry, you should eat food... There's no need to eat yourself, I'm sure Billie has food somewhere," Mike joked, attempting to lighten the mood. I giggled, and he grinned, obviously relieved his joke had the desired effect.

I hissed as he poured antiseptic onto my hand, and his eyes flicked to mine.

"I have to clean it, My." I nodded, and he continued.

When he finished, he sat by me on the counter.

"You okay?' he asked, and I nodded slowly.

"I'm alright now." My voice was muffled by the still-dripping cloth. Mike reached over and peeled it back, inspecting the damage.

"It's not too deep. You won't need stitches or anything as long as you don't bite it again." I nodded again, smiling softly as he put it back on my mouth. He sighed and sat back, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I can't," I whispered, and he nodded.

"Bad dream?" A tear hit my cheek, surprising me. I swiped it away.

"That's an understatement..." His eyes opened slowly, and he smiled at me reassuringly.

"It's okay, My. I'm right here-"

"Everything okay?" Billie asked from the doorway. I jumped; I hadn't heard him approach. My head snapped to where he was, then looked away. There he stood, in his boxers. I was glad for the darkness, so Mike couldn't see the blush spreading on my cheeks.

"Yeah, Myla just had a nightmare," Mike answered. Billie joined us on the counter, taking the spot next to me.

"You don't need to be scared, Myla. Mike and I are here... and we're scarier than any monster in the closet. Tag Team!" he said, and he and Mike bumped fists. Billie and I smiled at each other, and then I was enveloped in a Billie-hug. He kissed the top of my head, and I blushed again. My stomach flipped, and I frowned.

I knew I couldn't get too close to Billie... Not because I was afraid of what he would do... I was afraid of what I would do...