The camera lays limp before me, partially pulled off the wall with forking, exposed wires sliced in half. The pair of kitchen scissors are gently pried out of my grasp and placed on the vanity, a warm hand guiding me off the furniture and back on to solid ground. My hair has dived into a nest around my ruddy face, curls and coils slashing across my vision. My chest rises and falls with fury, jaw sewn tightly closed. The world around me disintegrates as I force myself out of this nightmare and rather into the bubble of my own mind, shutting out the scene around me.
There have been moments in my life where things have fallen into place far too quickly for my body to withstand. When I was ten and suddenly the blood stains I would catch lingering on my fathers shirt and the red taint caught beneath my mothers nails suddenly made sense. When the long weekends away were no longer to check on the family restaurants but rather to get rid of the bad men. When I was thirteen and suddenly they were no longer called bad men, but murderers, human traffickers, rapists. When I was eighteen and Lucas left me, when they took him away in an ambulance, lifeless. However, none of them compete with the dread filling my body right now. None of them can compare to the torturous feeling drowning me as of now.
Kenny.
I refuse. I refuse it all. It's simply not possible. Kenny isn't like that. Kenny has a family, a daughter, a wife. Kenny is happy, he's sane, he's not a stalker or a murderer.
"Sofia?"
My ears catch Nikolai speak, but my brain isn't working. I feel myself paling, the colour running away from my body. There's a whirlwind of nausea spinning within me, tackling every morsel of critical thinking in its path. I can't open my mouth to respond, I can't force my eyes to blink away the film of disassociation and I can't breathe. I can't function. I throw up. It comes out of no where, pushing me to double over and empty my stomach contents onto my bedroom floor. I shake with a new found fear, icy cold shakes I can't possibly shift. Nikolai curses and I feel his hand gather my hair into a makeshift ponytail as his other falls to my back, rubbing soothing circles.
"You're okay, it's okay."
I stagger to a sitting position, my back against the foot of my bed, knees cradled beneath my chin. Nikolai crouches before me, his face too concerned. I still haven't blinked. I blink. It hurts, like sandpaper scratching at my eyeballs.
"Please speak."
Nikolai whispers, his tone uncertain. I swallow a wave of sickness and blink again, suddenly he's there. Nikolai's face is clear, the curves and contours, his eyes, my favourite eyes.
"I'm okay."
I say, nodding my head. But the words mean nothing and he knows it. Nikolai shakes his head, slow and full of denying.
"No you're not, Sofia."
He states, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. The air is so thick and full of a disgusting heaviness that I can't bring it into my lungs, no matter how hard I try. I fumble over incomplete intakes of air, losing my composure in an instance. My heart outruns my mind, thumping against my ribs with a mission to shatter them. The walls surrounding me crumble inwards and it feels like my entire world has just fallen to ruins. I'm not okay. I'm not even close to okay. Okay is very far away right now.
"Kenny?"
I say, testing the name on my tongue. It feels foreign, new. I don't get that same burst of warmth anymore. This time, when I say his name, it tastes of bitter betrayal. Nikolai's eyes drift from my face and he tries to soften the blow when he speaks.
"There could be more to this, it might not be him."
He says, meeting my stare again. His words don't even convince himself. I shake my head and let another tear make its way down my face. In my mind, there is a reel of memories commencing. They go fast, still shots and small snippets flashing in my brain. I focus on every memory, picking apart the events in search for what I am looking for. With each memory I sift through, I realise how stupid I am. So very stupid, because he's there, in all of them. I think of my first memory in this story, the party and the garden. I think back to the flash in the bushes and the warm air. I think of the elevator doors pulling shut just before I could catch them. I think of Kenny and the sweat clinging to his forehead when I found him in the security room. 'The gym' he had said when I asked him where he had been. I was so naive. I was too trusting, because it was a lie. He had been on the same journey I had been on not two minutes prior. He had been at the party. He had been in the bushes.
YOU ARE READING
Before the Sun
Romantik'"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I yell, tears bubbling around my waterline. The masked man stops, his body freezes, his back to me and his hand hovering above the door. My feet are planted firmly on the ground, numb legs full of icy cold blood...
