chapter thirty two: you haven't seen crazy (bat-shit)

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[XXXII]

(Warning : mild gore in this chapter)

"It's the smell of the soil, after the rain falls. Like a damp grave."

"Oh."

-

IT RAINED.

It hadn't rained in ages; we were in goddamn California, for crying out loud. But it rained for Kiara, like the earth itself mourned her loss as her body fell down with a lifeless thud.

Time stilled as I focused on what I was looking at. The blood ran from her forehead to her eye and further still, as if she was shedding a last tear.

ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃᶦⁿ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᶦᵗ, '³⁸

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ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃᶦⁿ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᶦᵗ, '³⁸

My mind was blank. I turned to where the bullet had come from.

There, on a rooftop, clothes shredded but still alive and un-fucking-scathed, was her.

Abby.

I let out a blood-curdling shriek, somewhere between a cry and a yell, somewhere between blind rage and seeping misery, riddled with the essence of guilt and grief as she stared me down, finger still on the trigger that had taken my life, the life I had wanted, away, and dashed off.

My gun. Where was my gun?

With Ellie, to protect her.

No. She couldn't get away.

But she had, in an instant.

I didn't know what to do.

I turned to Henderson, who was holding my mother's limp body, and seemingly...crying?

I couldn't believe it. This soulless cretin thought he could lay a finger on my mother just because he confused his hard-on for her for actual human feelings?

No.

My mother wouldn't want his slimy hands on her.

Ellie had since gotten out of the car, and tried to come over and be there for  me. Lev was comforting Finn, who was upset pertaining to the bond he and my mother had formed.

I shrugged off Ellie's advances, mumbling a sharp, "Cover me," as an order.

She saw in my face that I was grieving, and probably thought it'd be best to address it later.

𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎  𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚜Where stories live. Discover now