Pieces of Autumn by Mara Black Page B

be fitting, for what you've hidden from me. You'll think twice before you dare lie to me again."
    My heart leapt.  
    A moment later, a chill ran through me. Punishment. It was a better option than Birdy, but I still had to consider my fate.
    I looked up at him, and said two simple words:
    "I'm sorry."

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Sorry

    Tate

    Sorry.
    What a useless word.
    Broken things stay broken. Nothing changes that.
    When I was very young, before the world went to hell, in a time I can barely remember - I learned that lesson. Everyone does, at one time or another. These memories are like ancient books, pages that might crumble if you touch them wrong. When I was first taken by Stoker I would revisit them again and again, to remind myself that they were real.
    It was a film that my parents used to watch. A regal woman, fiery red hair belying her age, lifted her chin high. "When did sorry ever mend a harm?"
    I remembered that, always, when my parents taught me the importance of apologies and I nodded and did as I was told. I knew it wasn't worth arguing over. But really, why did it matter?  
    Sorry doesn't fix a careless mistake.
    Sorry doesn't change what kind of person you are.
    A stupid, useless word.
    I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
    When I think of sorry , I used to think of Daniela. She was the personification of sorry , the vivid, blood-soaked reminder of the uselessness of apologies.
    Now, my sorry is Autumn.
    From the moment I saw her, I wanted to say it. To her. To myself. To the ghost of Holland, his face twisted with disappointment at my weakness. But what could I possibly apologize for?
    Everything. Nothing. It didn't matter. So many things I could say to Autumn, and none of them would mean anything.
    I'm sorry about your parents.
    I'm sorry this is your life now.
    I'm sorry about me.
    I'm sorry about the Viper.
    I'm not insane. I understand the Viper is not real. Or, more accurately, he and I are the same person. I am him and he is me. The Viper is my self-preservation. The Viper is my id, or possibly my ego, if you're into that sort of thing. I could argue for either.  
    The Viper watches me while I do stupid things. He smirks and he winces and he grows angry, because when I am punished for my good deeds, we both suffer. We merge back into one body. Just me. Just Tate. And we both howl with the pain.
    Don't tell me I'm dissociating. I know the fucking difference. If were dissociating, the Viper wouldn't suffer when I suffered. The Viper is my regret. The Viper is who I wish I could be.
    The Viper is my cruelty. But when I hurt someone, we merge again.  
    I'm not fucking dissociating. If anything, the Viper makes me even more aware of who I am. Not less.
    The Viper is who Holland wanted me to be. He's the one who gave me that name, a long time ago, hoping to kill what was left of Tate. It didn't work and I hated that it didn't work, because most days there's nothing I would love more than to become the Viper. Always and forever, no more regrets.
    But he's not fucking real.

    Autumn had just broken the most important rule of all.
    "I'm sorry," she said, quietly. Her face was very pale.  
    "Sorry?" I echoed, mockingly. " Sorry ? That's all you have to say about this?"
    "I just wanted -"
    "I don't need your excuses," I growled.  
    Red on the edges of my vision. The Viper cracked his knuckles. I knew I was being irrational, and that was just the way I liked it. I hated this girl, I hated her for shining a light on all the dark, private corners of my life. I hated her because she made me remember my weakness.
    I'd been alone here for such a long time, nursing my anger, with no one but myself to take it out on. She'd finally given it an outlet. And for that, she would pay.
    She lied to me. She put my life in danger. She had no respect - not that that was any fucking surprise.
    When she first came, I'd believed the worst. Stoker wasn't usually that obvious, but when it came to me, they were frightened and desperate. They