Five More Minutes | 18+ [HIATUS]

athena

I continued to play with my knife as I stared at my ceiling, laying limp on my bed. The night had come, and at this point I was just waiting for him to call for me.

"I should probably fix myself up for the mission," I uttered to myself quietly, letting a sigh escape my lips. I got up and walked into my bathroom yet again, grabbing the first aid kit and sitting down on the toilet seat.

I opened it up and grabbed the packet of alcohol wipes and bandage gauze. Setting the kit back on the counter, I opened the packet and pulled out the small wipe. I looked down at the cuts, then back at the wipe, taking a deep breath in.

I don't like this type of pain.

I slowly placed the wipe on the surface of my cuts before sliding it both ways, making sure to thoroughly clean it. The stinging sensation overwhelmed my thoughts as I winced in pain. I wiped faster, making myself think that the faster I wipe, the faster it'll be done and over with. I could stand any type of pain pretty well, but I specifically hated the pain of cleaning my wounds.

I threw the wipe in the trash before rolling the bandage gauze out, placing it on top of my thigh. I rolled it over and over, making sure it would stay in tact and prevent any bleeding. I really didn't want to deal with any sort of problem with these cuts whilst on a mission; it would just cause more of a hassle.

As I finished, I grabbed the tape in the kit and tore a piece off with my teeth, holding the end of the bandage in place before firmly placing the tape on top of it. I stood up and took a few steps, walking around in the bathroom to make sure it wouldn't mess my movement up. I nodded an "okay" to myself before closing the kit and throwing all of the empty packets away. Storing the kit back into the cabinet, I walked out and back into my room.

I jumped on my bed and checked my phone, seeing a text notification plastered on my screen.

Of course it just had to be my damned mother. Who else could it be?

Lyssa Hendrix, the "queen" of the mafia. She was nothing better than my father; if anything, she was worse. She was cold, brutal, and didn't care about anything but herself. It disgusted me.

I opened my phone, reading the text.

"You're coming clubbing with me tomorrow. It's going to be so much fun!"

I gagged at the thought. I knew the only reason she wanted to bring me with her was to show me off to grown men. She wanted to attract them and use them like she uses me. To her, it was as if I was just a sex toy, waiting to be used. She didn't care about me.

She only acted like she did, like everyone else does.

I left her on read, knowing she wouldn't take no for an answer. Putting my phone down, I looked back up at my ceiling in silence. Before long my eye lids were starting to shut, and my body started to relax. My room was cozy and quiet, and it seemed like the perfect time to go to sleep.

"Get out of your damn room and get down here!"

I grunted and put my hands over my face in frustration. "I was just about to sleep," I whined to myself, getting up and grabbing a gun in my inventory. I grabbed a black coat and put it on, checking myself out in the mirror before rushing downstairs and entering his office. I looked at his seat to find it empty, only for a guard to rush over and say, "Living room, miss." I thanked him and turned towards the living room, rolling my eyes. As I reached the room, I went over and stood in front of him, waiting for further instruction.