Bleed Me An Ocean

Bleed Me an Ocean Cover Illustration by @hobofette Copyright 2023 Kyra Knight All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For all the bad girls. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Content Warning This book contains scenes of graphic violence and murder. There are descriptions of child abuse and neglect, sexual assault, and rape. Reader’s discretion is advised. Chapter 1 I had never seen a dead body before. My father was lying in the floor of his kitchen. His shirt was in tatters, his blood pooling beneath him on the ground. There was blood other places, too; some smudges on the kitchen island, streaks and splatters on the once pristine white wall behind him. With shaking hands, I located my phone and my father's pulse point. I was surprised to feel warmth beneath my fingers, but there was no heartbeat to be found. "Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" "My father is... I think he's dead." "What's your address?" "Eighteen-twenty Loomis Street." "Emergency services are on their way. Do you know how to administer CPR?" "No, but he, uh... he's been stabbed." A lot. I don’t think CPR was helpful in this situation. "He doesn't have a pulse." "Services will arrive in five minutes." It was like speaking to a robot. No tone, no inflection. My father was dead. I couldn't stop repeating the word in my head. Dead, dead, dead, dead. Like a morbid mantra that blocked out all other sounds until the word didn't seem real anymore. I wasn't supposed to be here. I had debated not coming all day, but the look of disappointment on my mother's face had eventually propelled me to the car and down the rainy streets of Darkwood. No matter how nasty he'd been to her, she'd always wanted me to have a relationship with him. Any hope for that was now gone. I noticed liquid seeping into the knees of my high socks and stumbled backwards at a crouch until my head bumped against the kitchen island. I used it to pull myself off the floor and wandered back towards the front door in a daze. My limbs were numb as I stepped off of the porch and out into the rain I'd run through just minutes before. I crouched down on the stairs of the porch, my stomach turning over until I choked, but releasing nothing. There was nothing to release - I'd come hungry, just as he'd asked. I turned my face up towards the rain, letting it wash away the sheen of sweat on my skin, letting it cool me. When I looked back down, I saw that it was also washing the blood from my socks and shoes. There was so much fucking blood. It seemed endless, like if I stayed here for a while longer, I would eventually see it seeping out from under the front door. I debated calling my mom, but the thought of her showing up here in time to see what I had made me not do it. She was an ER nurse; I couldn't imagine her standing idly by while others attempted to resuscitate him or loaded him into a body bag. I called my best friend instead. "Hey, Wren," Drew answered. "Aren't you at dinner?" "I... " Nothing else came out of my mouth. His voice was more alert when he spoke again. "Are you okay? Is your dad being a dick again?" He sounded defensive, like if I answered yes he'd be on his way to tell my father off. "I found him in the floor." I could hear sirens heading my way now. "What happened to him?" It wasn't until that moment that I remembered seeing someone else on the way here, someone more out of place than even I was. Because of the mask. I hadn't reached my father's property yet, but this area was secluded. Through the thick droplets of rain, I'd seen someone running opposite the direction I was going. They were covered head to toe in black - black boots, black pants, black jacket with the hood up to surround the plain black mask on their face. I'd seen them and thought, "Hey, I have boots just like that." And then I'd contemplated what it might be like for another alternative type to be in my tiny town. "Wren?" "He's dead, Drew." Dead, dead, dead, dead. There was some scuffling around on his end of the line. "I'll be there in a few minutes." The sirens were loud now. Lights bounced around the equally spaced trees along the drive. He'd brought me up here once during the landscaping process and I'd scoffed at those trees. Nature wasn't meant to be planned and plotted and perfected. He'd cleared all the fauna from this land just to remake it in a way that took the wildness out of the equation. It was a reminder of how he viewed everything else, including me. He couldn't fucking stand my wildness, either. Seconds after that thought, people were running past me to get into the house. I barely saw them. Barely registered what was happening at all. My mind was busy visiting pieces of the past, my memories of