(WARNING: This chapter includes many triggers, be aware while reading and at anytime do not continue if it triggers you)
Rhea
About two weeks.
That's the last time I saw Liam. I don't know what his definition is of soon, but I'm pretty close to going insane.
Somehow I've stayed alive by living off of small amounts of food.
Last week a guard gave me a burnt slice of bread and a half filled cup of water.
I ran out of both yesterday.
The light outside my door doesn't work so well anymore. It flickers and leaves me completely in the dark by myself, only struggling back on after what feels like an hour.
My mind is what keeps me entertained now.
I float in the words I think, sitting here aimlessly wandering.
I can't feel my legs anymore, they've gone numb. Anytime I move, I feel my nerves jolt into what feels like ants biting me.
It's painful, to either sit here, or to move. I try laying down but the floor is so cold, it starts burning my skin.
I've caught my mind slipping back to Elijah and what I'd do if I saw him again. What he'd say to me. The look he'd give. How he would feel to look at me.
And each and every time, I've gotten to the same answer.
He'd hate me.
He would be hurt.
Angry.
And probably even disgusted.
Which feels odd to me. To think someone like him could be disgusted with me. Someone who kills.
But then I think of myself, and who I am to him.
Someone who seems to have everything and anything she wants.
Someone who hasn't lived a day in struggle.
Someone who doesn't care what others think.
Someone who doesn't know how to love anyone properly besides herself.
And... to think about it. He would be right.
And that is what hurts.
Because I finally met someone who gave me the utmost truth when nobody else would. Someone who didn't act like I was a fragile princess who needed to sit and look pretty and do absolutely nothing else.
Instead, he knew who I was, what I represent, and called me out on it.
Not even my parents did that.
Nobody told me I was being a bitch. Or that I was spoiled, or had everything when others had nothing.
But he did.
He did and didn't judge me for it.
Because if he truly judged me for it, he would've never let me in his house. He would've never lended me his clothes, and given me food. He would've never saved me.
That's who Elijah is.
If he doesn't care, he won't do it. If he judges you, despises you, and who you are, he won't help.
But he did.
He did a lot for me, and I hurt him.
If I'm being honest with myself, I ran away from him, because I was scared of what I felt. I'm scared of what I do feel.
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Perfect Flaws
FantasyI lift my hand, holding my pistol to his chest, hovering over his heart. He stares at me, emotions spilling out of him. Emotions I can't decipher. He leans closer, the tip of the barrel pressing into his skin, just above his heart. "Do it," he whisp...
