「SO OUTSIDE OF MY MISERY, I THINK I'LL FIND」
「A WAY OF ENVISIONING A BETTER LIFE」
「FOR THE REST OF US, THE REST OF US」
「THERE'S HOPE FOR THE REST OF US, THE REST OF US」
•THIS IS BOOK II
• THE FIRST BOOK IS CALLED "Revenge"
•ART CREDITS ARE UNKNOWN:...
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Chapter Twenty-Seven: 3:33
warning: mentions of PTSD, panic attack
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SHE jolted up, her breath catching in her throat as she gasped. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, uneven and ragged pants passing over her lips. Her body was covered in sweat, causing the ends of her hair to stick to her forehead and the nape of her neck. Her vision was blurry from awaking so suddenly, and her hands shook as she lifted them, pushing her hair back from her face. She dropped them to her shoulders, exhaling heavily as she turned her head.
The place in the bed beside her was empty, the blankets tossed to the side. She saw the light on the baby monitor light up, the speakers picking up on the sound from inside of the nursery. She leaned across the bed and picked up the monitor, recognizing the voice of her husband instantly.
She sat back on her haunches, the melodic sound of his voice reaching her ears. Her shoulders began to relax slowly. Satoru was singing in Romanian—the same lullaby that Aki sang to Hope every night to put the baby to sleep. She held the monitor in her hands, her eyes fluttering shut.
She was reminded then that she was no longer in the hell that her mind created. She was living in the present. Satoru was here. Hope was here. She had nothing to worry about.
Placing the monitor back onto Satoru's nightstand, she climbed out of the bed, making sure to detangle herself from the sheets before she did so. She brushed her hair away from her face, trying to seem as if she had only awoken for something, and that she hadn't dreamt that she was back in the pits of Hell, face to face with the Devil himself.
She left through the cracked door of the bedroom, spotting the soft orange glow from the lamp in the nursery down the hall. She walked by silently, preventing her husband from knowing that she was up. She descended down the hall, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. She stepped into the kitchen, glancing at the time projected on the stove. 3:33 AM. A shudder ran down her spine.
She wiped the sweat from her palms onto her spandex shorts, turning a circle as she tried to remember the reason for coming into the kitchen. She whispered to herself under her breath before turning to the cabinets, retrieving a glass from the bottom shelf. She turned the tap on, careful not to make much noise as she rubbed the side of her neck.
Lifting the glass to her lips, she drank as if it was the first time that she had tasted water in months. Her hands still shook, making her close her eyes. She placed the cup down into the sink, exhaling once more as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She held onto the sink as she lowered her head, counting the beats of her own heart from the throb in her ears. Once she had managed to calm down, she let go of the sink and turned.
