Jonathan Hunt is a lonely person with his own sad story; And so is Ashleigh Bradbury. John, however, finds his ways to balance the pain and mirth in his life. Ash, on the other hand, has started to live with the pain. While John is learning to adjus...
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"Don't go where the path leads. Go where there is no path and leave a trail."
❛❛「₪」❜❜
Candy's P.O.V.
As my eyes snapped open, I found myself lying on something. Something soft, something comfortable, something that my back hadn't felt for a good long time. It wasn't big, like a bed, but it was cozy. I whipped my head to the side, and found myself lying on the couch. Apparently, one of these people had been sweet enough to put me here after . . .
Reality hit. I realised what I had done.
I had consumed drugs.
I had consumed drugs?
No no no no, that ain't possible! This can't be!
That was the moment when my attention shot to my head. It was aching terribly, presenting the truth to me, which clearly happened to oppose my current state of belief.
Why in hell's name would I ever try drugs?
Because they were supposed to make you feel better, after all? I heard my mind tell myself.
That statement was certainly not true. I could say I wasn't feeling particularly good at the moment. My hands flew towards my forehead, pressing them hard, as the pain increased each time I breathed in.
Oh yes, I surely wasn't.
Still lying in the bed, I looked up at the ceiling, and took in for the first time, the beauty of this house. Washed with bright white paint, the ceiling reflected the sunlight that entered the house through the windows. A chandelier hanging from the center, was decorated with gold and glass. It sounded like a weird combination, but the result that it gave was astounding. Three layers of glass beads formed a circle, and the top of the chandelier decorated with golden border, gave a classic look to the simple false-ceiling. The beads sparkled like little stars, except for the fact that stars shone in the dark night sky, but here, the ceiling was white as snow. And yet, the beads managed to leave little sparkling reflections on the side of the walls. As I turned my heard, I noticed bright sunlight entering the room, making my eyes squint, as the palm off my hand flew straight in front of my face for defense. I snuggled on the couch, only to notice a blanket wrapped around me.
Too caring for ruthless drug addicts, aren't they?
Drug addicts . . .
Those words brought me back to the matter of priority. I had stayed for an entire night in the house of four strangers, who also- incidentally- happened to be drug addicts. Surely they couldn't be something as profoundly dangerous as burglars now, could they? Or murderers? Or psychopaths? MANIACS?
