MY SWEET HELL

Chapter 1

5 days prior to the incident!

Claire has completed her morning yoga and was now relaxing with her sweatend hot cocoa. She woke up earlier than usual today. Her delicate form comfortably sitting on her silky sofa and making wishes that would nowhere in a billion years be a reality. However that helps shake off few racking nerves.

But would that be enough to prevent her from wondering in her head?

The heat in her palm began to sting, signaling her to place her cup back on the saucer but the rich creamy brown liquid tempted her to take few sips before doing so.

Back in her work room earlier this morning, no matter how hard she concentrated on staining the white papers it still didn't relieve her from the heavy feeling weighing on her mind for the past few days and it seems to have gotten worst. She fears that it would continue to get heaveir and thicker as nightfall comes.

*I wish that evening never comes.
I wish this peaceful morning freeze into space and I wish...*

*Isn't that against the universe? Can you even hear yourself? The world won't just sieze because of your tiny problem. Get over yourself and suck it up!*

Claire let her head drop on her sofa in a motion of zero gravity.

A free fall that would impact aches in her head. She must've done it to silence the voices in her head.

Now of all the time her pasion should've been of help and save her from these negative emotions but unfortunately she couldn't brush her nerves away nor was she able to immerse in her world of fantasy and stroke something beautiful enough to make her day better.

The sound of the door drew her eyes to the passage at the far corner of her living room.

A lean young old looking man who appears beyond exhaustion limps his way into the living room.

His eyes were partially open, with his silver hair sticking out in weird direction. If he had sensed a second person in the room then he did a good job pretending that no one was around.

His silence treatment didn't offend Claire at all. In fact she could now feel air easily passing through her windpipe. Like breathing wasn't as difficult as it was a moment ago. It was a feeling of relieve. Here she was thinking she was alone in this house.

She sat up and sip her hot drink while watching the poor creature limping his way to her kitchen. His clothes were in terrible shape, in complete contrast to how he looked last night. That realization wasn't a shocker for Claire.

*And here I was expecting his arrival later in the week.

A scowl formed inbetween Claire's brows as she took in his state. ''Did you spend the night in a grave? Seriously Boris how many times this week?''

*As long as he keeps this up I will continue to be the nagging lady*

She wasn't going to ask why he was in this state. The last time she showed her concern by asking, the answer he gave her was enough to bleach her poor innocent mind.