Ruthless Obsession

Chapter nine

-----------------------------

Third Person:

Ruth gasps, and covers her face with her hands, she turns away from the scene. "Oh my god."

Maria's neck is slit and her eyes are still open, she looks shocked. There's a serpent sign on the wall, made out of blood, Maria's blood.

"She was innocent, why did they do this to her." Ruth sobs.

"Lorenzo, get the car ready, we can't stay here." Angelo says aggrieved. Lorenzo nods his head, and leaves to the car. Ruth just stares at the scene in the bedroom, in her bedroom. Her mind hasn't caught up with her eyes yet. She can't believe that Maria is actually dead.

Angelo stares at Ruth, she's barely breathing. "Ruth, we need to leave." Angelo grabs Ruth's hand and she won't budge from her spot.

"We can't leave her like this." Ruth sobs, and steps further into the room, to where Maria lies on the bed. Ruth shuts Maria's shocked, empty eyes and grabs her hand. "We can't leave her." She whispers.

Angelo doesn't know what to do, or what to say. He just wants to get Ruth out of here. He steps up next to Ruth, "Ruth, we have to go-"

"No! You don't understand, She's all alone, I can't leave her!" Ruth half yells, half sobs.

Angelo hugs Ruth, and she cries into his shoulder, "I'm gonna find who did this, and make them pay. I promise." Angelo whispers into Ruth's hair. It surprisingly soothes her.

Angelo takes Ruth's hand and leads her out of the bedroom, she reluctantly leaves Maria and they both go to the car, where Lorenzo waits for them.

"Someone should tell her family." She whispers. Angelo nods his head. He still holds her hand in the car, tracing calming circles in her palm.

Ruth's pov:

I'm surprisingly calm, I feel a deep numbness that overtakes my entire body. Somehow this feels worse than being outright sad. I can't cry, or breathe, and I feel a hopelessness that obliterates my mind.

Hearing about someone's death and seeing it are two completely different things, I have no words to explain what it feels like to see someone you care about, murdered in such a horrendous way. I always feel the presence of helplessness, but today it's 100 times worse.

I know Angelo is holding my hand, but I can't feel him, or see him, I can only acknowledge his presence, as far as my mind is concerned, I am alone. He says something to me, but I'm underwater and I can only hear his muffled voice, coming from the surface, I can't make out any words.

I vaguely remember the process in which Angelo and I got out of the car, and entered the hotel.

Lorenzo escorts us up to the room. The three of us all stand in the elevator, resonating in silence, this particular silence, is a silence that we all anonymously came upon, in agreement that what we just saw deserves a moment of mourning. This particular silence agrees that death is nothing to be taken lightly.

Somehow along the way Angelo released my hand, I don't remember when, but I feel cold now. I feel nauseous and uncomfortable. Everything I do, and every movement I make, is instructed by Angelo in some way, either his hand on my back directing my every destination, or his undeniable control of this situation. I am not in control, and I couldn't be more accepting, because right now I am looking down at my body from the sky, and I'm trying everything I can to find my control again, so I don't have to feel so utterly powerless.

Angelo is undeniably calm headed, he is the invisionment of authority and although I have criticized this personality trait in the past, I can't deny the benefits. I need someone else to tell me what to do right now, because I can't do that for myself.