400 BC.
Blood. There was blood everywhere. The thick, red substance was making me sick. What had just happened? Where's Orpheus? What have I done? I couldn't make myself look at the mess I did. I felt empowered, though. All the pain and hurt I felt a couple of minutes ago vanished in a mere second. When my gaze finally met with my now ex boyfriend, freezed. There's no way in hell I did that. There he was, laying unconscious on the floor, his eyes glued on mine as terror was portrayed in them. His long white mantle was stained in blood. Shame, it looked good on him. I hissed at that thought. Nice one, Galene.
There were droplets of blood at the corner of his mouth as well. You'd think cutting someone's throat would be less messy.
What am I supposed to do now? I just brutally killed the love of my life with a sharp rock. My subconscious kept reminding me of how he hurt me. 'He deserves it, Galene, he hurt you. He made a fool out of you while you were giving him your all', it said. But the guilt was building up. How could I do this? Endless questions popped my head that very moment. How could I kill the person I loved the most?
'How could he stuck his tongue down her throat while you were waiting for him to come to you?', my subconscious shot back. There will be consequences.
