"mistress" • diluc

xix

! tw: graphic depictions of self harm + suicidal thoughts and actions, implications of rape !

an exclamation mark will mark where it's safer to read but this chapter in general may be quite triggering! please read with caution and remember it's okay to take breaks!

• third person •

I can't see...

Her eyelashes fluttered, the world around her only a fuzzy blur.

Is it raining..? It's so loud...

She winced as she curled into herself, shivering silently upon the bed.

It's so cold...

Aila furrowed her brows, slowly sitting up.

Her head pounded. Her whole body ached.

I feel sick, she thought to herself.

It's so cold.

Clumsily, she began to reach for her duvet.

And then, she froze.

She was still in her clothes from last night. Her formal dress.

Except...

The dress was ripped. It was torn all the way up to her waist. The shoulders had been tugged down. Her jewellery had been yanked off, stray diamonds and jewels scattered upon the floor and her bed.

Aila stared. Her eyes didn't dare close.

Her body barely moved.

She glanced at her exposed thighs.

Bruises.

Her underwear was on the floor.

Suddenly, everything from last night had come storming back.

Aila's nails dug into her thighs. A roar of thunder echoed outside. Her entire body trembled, her pupils shaking in disbelief.

And then, she slipped off the bed.

"No," she whispered.

"No, no."

"No..."

Her bare feet brought her over towards her alchemy table, and the glass vials beside it with various potions she had created.

Red shot through her eyes.

Aila gripped the vial holder. It smashed against the ground.

She began to scream.

"NO NO NO NO!!!!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She choked on her breath. Her knees collapsed to the ground, the glass digging within.

She didn't care. She didn't fucking care anymore.

The wind raged outside. She gripped the glass. Crimson blood tore through her fingers.

"WHY ME?!" she screeched. "WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!!"

She sobbed, screaming and screaming and screaming in agony, screaming, yet no one was fucking listening! NO ONE FUCKING CARES!

The sharp shard of glass ripped through her thighs. Her vision was a blur, the blood cascading her view as she desperately tried to carve out each and every one of the bruises.

She couldn't even fucking feel it. She couldn't even fucking feel a thing.

All she knew was that she needed to fucking die. She needed to fucking get out of this hellhole.