I AM SATAN'S MISTRESS and I have a SERIOUS problem. I can't stop thinking about that angel...

I AM SATAN'S MISTRESS and I have a SERIOUS problem. Chapter 21

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Chapter 21

By the time I had arrived at Southern Hill, it was very late. I knew that there was no hope of me finding out anything at this time of night, so I found a backpackers that was just around the corner from the train station. Fortunately, it was incredibly cheap. Unfortunately, I was bunking with a roommate that must have a breathing problem, because the snoring they produced throughout the entire night was so loud, it probably woke up the Angles in Heaven. Despite the annoyance of my company, I knew there wasn’t any chance I would be sleeping tonight anyways. I was way too busy doing useful things, like stressing about all of the thoughts within my head, all the people in danger, and how I had no idea how to save them. Strangely enough, my bed felt rather empty too. I don’t think that helped the whole ‘sleep’ situation either.  

The morning couldn’t come soon enough. Yet when it did, I pretended like it hadn’t. I stayed rugged up in the itchy sheets the backpackers provided, sinking into the sounds of my roommate, and ignoring the responsibilities I felt I had.

By the time I had dragged myself out of bed, and out of the hotel, I knew that it was about midday. Not that you could tell. The clouds are so grey above me, they look like they are from another world, full of darkness and despair. The wind was whipping through the buildings, making walking a challenge, and movement unless absolutely required, a complete waste of time.

I think there is an odd sense of satisfaction, when the world’s weather accurately represents exactly how you are feeling. With a weird sense of contempt, I wrap my jacked around me firmly, and follow my guts to where they thought I should go.

The Southern Hill University was a dull looking place. I had imagined it to have ghosts floating around, calling my name. Ofcourse, it didn’t. Cause that would be just ridiculous! But the coldness I received from it gave me shivers that I couldn’t ignore.

I wanted to remember what it was like to be human, a real human, with a life and a family and a best friend who I shared my room, and all my free time with. I walk amongst humans, but I am no longer one of them. For a while now, all I have wanted is to be loved by the man I love. But I am starting to want more.

I want to be able to understand the pain. I want to be able to know my past, know everything about me. This university was the turning point for my mortal life, as a normal person. It holds the exact place where everything I apparently believed in, fell away. I gave up on living, after this place. Yet it is so old, so boring, so cold. From the outside, it doesn’t seem like it has the potential of controlling my fate, like I feel that it has.

So, realistically, I felt this unquenchable urge to enter the place. A young girl pointed me into the right direction, after instructing me that the whole level of rooms had been left empty since that faithful night. I approved of the Universities decision to preserve the memories of the lives that where lost there.

The rooms were easy to find, with me only stopping once more for specific instructions. I had chosen to ask a young man who, as I guess could possibly happen, was excited about the horror, and even was able to identify the room where the only survivor was staying, ie. Me.

My room was dark. I flicked on the light, however it immediately flashed off again, apparently not working after no usage for so long. The room was stripped bare, not a piece of furniture within. I stood emptily at the doorway.

I use to live here? How could I have stayed in this room! It’s so empty, removed of everything that could have held represented my forgotten, my lost, past. I can’t have lived in this room!

My feet moved me into the room, and I immediately drifted over to the far left hand side. I found myself sitting with my back running against the wall, looking back at the blank walls around me, in the darkness. My only light was from the hallway outside my old room.

I stared at the wall directly in front of me. I could see the signs of blue-tack, having stained the wall. I wonder if that had been there when I lived here? Or maybe it was actually holding a poster? If so, I wonder what poster it was?... An image floated into mind, of some cranky looking pirates who seemed to belong to the carrabean, whomever that was. The Image fixed before me, hanging in front as though it really existed within the world I am in now. Glancing around, I knew that there should have been a second poster, of a man staring at the world intensely, as he held a young brunette possessively, right next to the first image, and they both should have been sitting above a bed. I picture arguing with someone, while sitting on that bed. I would have been hugging fluffy cushions and explaining in furious and very serious tones, that the man in the second poster should never be allowed to sparkle.

The bed would have sat next to a bedside table. No. The bedside table would definitely have been a box, that held a crocodile looking lamp, and a really nice alarm system that would have been impossible to turn off!

I glanced around my room again, picturing that I was to be sitting right about where my own bed probably would have sat, with its blue tones and pink patches. I would have yelled at my roommate to turn off the light, at throwing things the short distance into her area. We would fight over the music, and the posters, and the boys. But we would have been the best of friends, and I would have loved her completely.

I do love her completely. Not in a way that I wish we were lovers, but more so in the fact that deep down, I know I wish she was alive, that we were together once more. I wished that everything I could see was really here, I wished that the world around wasn’t being destroyed, that people’s life forces weren’t being absorbed my monstrosities. I wished I could fix everything.

And I wished with my whole heart that I could fix her... The best friend that I can’t remember.

Just because I couldn’t remember her, because I didn’t know her name or see her face in my mind, didn’t mean the pain wasn’t destroying me. I could tell that she should be here, should be sitting next to me. I could feel it, imbedded deep within the room, on a level that I couldn’t actually see, but could feel within me. I could feel my best friend, my lost past, myself. It was as though it was a memory in its own existence, forced away from me, something that I shall never be able to reach again.

The raw devastation at my loss, at my pain, and my past made me start shaking. I felt so cold, so isolated.

And I hated it! I hate all of it!

So I ran. Out of my room, away from my past. Away from the best friend who is just a forgotten memory, the posters of movies that I use to love, the bed that I use to sleep in. I ran away from the university I use to learn in, be a part of, and I kept on running. Like I always do. I let the fear, the pain, the torture take over me, and like usual, I run away. And, of course, the pain follows, like Peter Pan’s shadow, ever out of control but always stitched onto me and unable to leave.

I don’t know where I went. The rain was a continual drizzle when I reached the outside world. But I ran through it, allowing the coldness to settle deep within my skin, to soak into my clothes and absorb into my body.

When I stopped running, the very first thing I noticed was that the rain was hitting what sounded to be water. The second was that I was making hysterical sobbing noises. I tried to calm myself down, to push away my own thoughts and focus on what was around me. To my surprise I found I was in a small garden, with luscious green trees with pink flowers all around me. I noticed the water sound was coming from a gentle stream that ran along next to the path as it winded its way through the garden.

It was a beautiful place. I focused on its beauty, and ignored my own pain.

I was so focused, I didn’t even realise that I suddenly felt quite cold. Instead I ran my hand through my hair, trying to organise myself. As I lowered my hand again, I noticed something made my heart pound.

My figure nails were black.

The Herman’s shadow had finally found me.