Hearts We Mend To Break (Book I)

.54.

💫ANGEL💫

Pants and heavy breaths escaping my lungs, as I'm running in a loop of chaos and panic. The path I ran was never-ending, every villain was cast as a lead in my worst nightmare. Darkness closing in on me, suffocating my thoughts with its negative presence. A haze of fear and madness surrounding every meter of my soul's parameter. There was a battle worth fighting but I was provided no weapons of protection. I was alone. I was defenseless. I was weak.

"Special Delivery." A voice shouted, echoing around me and bouncing off black walls.

"I can't take this anymore, Angel." A pain-stained voice whined, ringing loudly in my ears.

"Angel, I love you." Her sweet voice sashayed through the air.

"Angel, Help!"

Then an unrecognizable, dark and gloomy toned repeated, "Everyone you love will die. Everyone you love will leave you. Everyone you love will suffer."

Every direction I turned in, there were echoes of pain; reverberations of doubt, resonates of disapproval. I was being tortured at every turn, never once needing physical arm because the psychological warfare taking place did enough damage altogether.

"Special delivery", followed by a vengeful cackle.

"Goodbye Angel", sounded out with the hurts and pains of lifelong secrets. I watched her fall down into darkness, arms spread like an eagle, stretched far beyond my reach as she disappeared into nothing.

"Lina! Angelina please!" I screamed, reaching out for the impossible.

"Am I going to die too? Will you be the death of me too, Angel?" Giselle cried out, backing into that corner of unforgiveable doubt. "Don't kill me, Angel." She winced.

I tried moving towards her, but that only drew her further out of reach. I tried calling out to her, but my voice was too small to be heard.

"I love you!" I cried. "I love you so much! Please don't leave me, too."

Crunching down into a tight ball, I wrapped my arms around my legs, rocking from side to side as I begged for the echoing guilt to cease. I couldn't take it anymore. All I saw was Angelina jumping over and over, the barrel of that gun smoking as he laughed with disdainful blame, and my fearful Giselle, afraid she'd be the next to go. It was torture. It was torment. It was one of many nightmares to come.

Tossing and turning every night for the past three days, fighting the demons roaming the earth around me as depression slowly sank its claws into me. Grief was a beast, grinning a devilish grin as the sight of my pain caused great satisfaction. Another death on my hands. How was I supposed to cope with that? If I had it my way, I'd lock and load up all of my guns and go give those Rojas assholes a taste of their own medicine. I'd dope them up with pain, remorse, fear, grief, and see just how bad they really were. But I knew I couldn't do that. I knew this wasn't my territory. I knew nothing about them or what they were really capable of.

"Are you sure you're not coming up for the holidays?" Lee had spent far too much time begging.

"Soliciting doesn't suit you. Its unattractive as fuck." I cracked.

"Ha! Funny. No seriously. Want me and Jeremy to come down there?"

"Nope."

"Have you talked to your parents?"

"Lee? Why?""

"I'm just saying. Thanksgiving is tomorrow."