[Book #2 in the Nystrom series]
[18+TW: mature content, heavy topics, language]
I push the feeling away and ultimately concentrate my gaze on his upper body, which still bears the traces of my lipstick. "You did not remove them?" He smirks and close...
I decided to only post this chapter today and chapter twenty on friday since I don't want to mess my schedule up.
Don't forget to vote, comment, follow, share AND OFC SPAM THE COMMENTS.
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- AMAYA'S POV -
My eyes may have never closed, or I just do not recall falling asleep. Since yesterday night, my eyes have been fixed on the same spot in the curtains, so I am surprised to see the sun's light coming through them.
My mind seems to have been given the order to kill me by forcing me to repeatedly think about last night.
Once turns into four times, and so on, until the recollection keeps playing back in the depths of my subconscious.
The memories of the fire and the one that merely served to bring more confusion to the surface are all tangled together.
I have always known that my mother was hiding things from me, but I have never learned what they are since I didn't think they would bother me so much.
His name—his name. His name. My brain continues asking the same question over and over again, as if someone had written his name in chalk before washing it away. It is as if something in my brain does not want to remember his name.
Or maybe it is just playing its usual game of convincing me to believe anything or to regain the last shred of hope that has vanished from my life. I realize that although my brain is a murderous mechanism purely by itself, it is not programmed to kill others. Every sensible part of my entire existence is doomed to be killed and destroyed by my own mind.
Rain's head starts to stir from sleep as I take a big breath and get out of the bed.
My legs are completely numb after all that has unfolded, and they serve as a constant reminder that I was unable to perform even the most basic task. Run.
I move in the direction of the bathroom since I need to wash my face in order to become completely awake. When I turn on the sink, the sound of the water falling down echoes in my ears as I feel the cold water pouring down my hands.
I flinch when the water begins to become a faint shade of red, I blink twice—or perhaps it is the tenth time—and clench my teeth. Red, the color the devil appears in and one that I've learned to love and despise at the same time. The red color what blood is composed of.
I close my eyes for a brief moment before opening them, and instantly the water is clear again with no trace of the red color. At that point, I know my mind is once again awake and ready for games.
I wash away what I hope are my sins or if I am lucky every memory I own from my face with my wet hands. Take them all, bad or good. In the beginning, there was nothing to take.
