Cursed Love

11

  School has ended ages ago, but I still have not moved from my spot on the bed, my head bent down to stare mindlessly at my phone. I was gripping it so hard that my knuckles were white, bruises were on my palms and my eyes has run out of tears for me to relieve myself of my pain. I should not have dragged James into this. I should not have been so reckless. What on earth was I thinking. I should know better than to let mundane emotions to affect me. Like love. Live thirst and greed for pain. Now James has to pay for it.

  I looked at the time again. It has been more than two hours. What are they playing at? They are literally giving my more time to pinpoint his location and their HQ. Unless...that is exactly what they want me to do...I sighed and plopped down into my bed. Staring up at the ceiling, my face hardened in determination. I'm not going to be of any help by just mulling around here doing nothing. I glanced at the door, a steely glint in my eye. I am going to look for some clues.

  Soon after, I was staring at James's apartment door. I tried the door knob. Locked, as expected. Luckily, I was smart enough to try my hand at some mundane tricks, including lock picking. Hey, don't judge. For a century or so, I was lost so it was natural for me to surround myself with lost souls like me and I will not be annoyed that I simply happened to pick up a few useful tricks along the way. But that is another story for another time to tell. Let us focus back to the present.

  I took out a few lock picking tools and started doing my job. I few quick twists and flicks of the wrist and the door lock came away with a soft but satisfying click. Ha! Still got it. I opened the door quietly and let myself in. The place was an utter mess. Shattered glass here and there, a few knocked over furniture and his stuff strewn all over the place. I could not help but feel the tiniest prick of admiration. He did put up quite the fight. What? I can appreciate good skill! But you're right, I should focus.

  I stalked around, looking for some clues as to where they might have taken him. A strange sort of calm has settled over me. You have to remember, I was a daughter of two highly trained assassins. The techniques may not be exactly  up to date, but some are still pretty effective. And others are like second nature. My father has always told me, "When in a crisis, the moment you freak out, you're dead." As advice to a poor, sweet, innocent child...not exactly the most comforting. But it's the sad truth of the world so hey, what're you going to do about it?

  Suddenly, I heard a rustle of activity in the room. Immediately, I tensed and suddenly, my dagger was in my hand, cold and still, unafraid. Unfeeling. I crept towards the room, took a breath, and jumped out into the corridor, my dagger held aloft. My posture was slightly more relaxed for maximum flexibility, my eyes sweeping the place so as to locate any danger to myself. But what I saw made my heart drop.

  "...James?!"

  He looked up and immediately, I knew something was wrong. His eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep, his face pale and drawn, lacking the glow of his usual energy and enthusiasm, his hair was all mussed up and the fire I saw underneath the ice within him...It was now a mere flickering, dying flame. "L-Lorna..." He rasped, and suddenly he teetered over the edge and broke down, his face crumpling.

  I hurried over to him and sat down beside him, wrapping my arms around his rocking body. "My-my sister...It's my sister, Lorna. Maia...she's...dead." His sobs came up short and wild as he sank into me. And I understood. When you hear of a death of a family member, it is not mere sadness you feel. It is an empty void of absolute despair and disbelief, a vacuum threatening to suck you in so that darkness may swallow you whole, a pool of icy cold water when the reality hits you like a wall.

  At these times, I cannot offer any advice. I simply held him, letting him vent it all out. The healing process...that is for him to do. Now, this is out of my hands. After a very long time, I hear his sobs subsiding. I shifted slightly and opened my mouth to speak when I heard snores coming from him. I am glad. This would be the first time he has gotten any real sleep since he heard of his sister. But what to do? Now he has fallen asleep on me...