Prologue

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Waking up with a start, I rushed to turn my bedside lamp on, knocking down my whiskey glass in the process.
"Shit! Not another one!" I mumble, knowing that it's going to be an ache to clean up because of the shards of glass.
This was the second glassware broken this week, the only few days I had a drink in bed. If I continued this way, I'd definitely be left with no china or glassware.

I take in deep breaths as I try to control my overzealous beating heart.
The nightmares never seem to end, the feeling of being empty still visits often and I can't deny that I need a deterrent sometimes to keep the nightmares away.
I always thought with therapy and keeping your mind busy, you'd be as shiny as possible.
Not saying therapy didn't help me. Sure as heck did. All I'm saying, is that we often assume healing is instant because of how quickly things change. It takes a lot of time to build and a minute to destroy.
I learnt that the hard way.
I stayed angry for so many years in my life without realizing it was my way of dealing with trauma and grief. And over those years, I buried myself into what I wanted to do.

I slowly wipe my hand across my face and tuck strands of my hair behind my ears. All I could do is shut my eyes while trying to centre myself.
I decide to push myself off the bed from the other side, finding my way into the bathroom, before I feel a sting underneath my left foot and look down to find little trails of blood from the room into the bathroom. I never notice things like these broken bottles. 
I pull my foot up to me while I sit down on the closed lid of the toilet seat. I pick out the little shard with my nail and clean my foot. Standing up with the piece, I look into the mirror, starring at the young woman who had empty honey colored eyes looking right back at me.

If one thing was sure, she knew what she was capable of.
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I'm doing this to help me build consistency in what I love. So here we go to uploading 2 chapters every week 🙃

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