It is pity.
An expression of pity, the glint of remorse directed towards me that evokes a feeling of such discomfort that I am ever so rarely exposed to.
I know why that is the expression that adorns Isabelle's ethereal face and I wish it wasn't directed at me.
My suffering is my own burden as are my thoughts but I know she would never forgive me if I didn't tell her of what just happened so I will.
Later.
I rush past her down the hallway, my legs never failing me before, now threatening to crumble beneath me as I rush towards the bathroom.
My back aches , my legs ache and the burning sensation of my stomach does nothing to ease the pain.
I hold my hair behind my back as I heave every shred of substance from my body until I'm left without a breath and trying to get rid of the vile taste that infiltrates my mouth.
Isabelle rushes behind me, her hand holding onto the knob of the door as she stares at me in a state of utter shock.
I don't blame her, I look like a wretch.
But breaking your way out of a highly guarded and restricted place, having to kill many and run away with your back towards men with rifles would do that to anyone.
Nothing was keeping me in that place and nothing was restricting me from leaving. So I ran.
More like limped but either way I got out.
I am not back at my fathers home, no instead I made my way to mine and Isabelle's house.
Battered and ruined I come to her first.
I already know that Zayden would have his men stationed around my fathers incase of such an escape and I am not running the risk of ending up back there.
Though I know he will find me again.
Eventually.
Atleast for now I can count my minutes and get a rest.
I sit on the floor my back against the wall and she crouches down handing out the water she retrieved for me.
We don't talk.
She knows that I have no energy to do so and absolutely no will to explain anything now.
So we sit in the loud silence.
I calm my breathing and try my hardest to not break out into a shaking mess because of my lack of energy.
I want to eat something.
Lifting myself up I wobble out the bathroom and flop onto the leather couch , sinking into it as I point to the kitchen.
Isabelle must've gotten the hint because after a few minutes she meets me and places a bowl of noodles onto the African blackwood table before us.
"Where's Dion" The words come out raspy as I attempt to sound casual.
"At your dads place" She answers taking a spoonful of her noodles.
Theres a long pause filled with the dance of the crackling fire.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she questions me as if I'm a bomb waiting to go off, cautiously with concern and worry.
I look to her and smile, "My car is gone"
"What?" she counters as if she didn't hear me the first time.
"My car is completely done for" I laugh, wheezing as I realise I fucking ran all the way here.
"and I .. I am apparently going to kill Giovanni " I continue to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
"Since when did you make plans to kill your dad" She shakes her head confused.
See thats the thing, he is not my dad. He is only my boss , a shitty one at that.
"Oh they're not my own, it's the Russians little plan"
You see a person of intelligence cannot exist in this society without holding anger for the complete idiocy of others, and its not a bleeding heart kind of hate , it is just the normal human reaction to nonsense and a set of unworthy vales.
I exhale a long breath, feeling a whole lot better than I was half an hour ago.
"I'm going to shower " I announce taking the last bite of noodles.
I rise from my seat passing the heat of the crackling fire, a mockery is what the pop of flame is.
________________________________
I resonate with the silence I'm left in, The heat from outside sweeping into my room through the window above my bed.
The crickets, a constant thrumming noise ,echo throughout my room as I sit knees crossed on my bed.
The light breeze hits flush against the skin of my arms and legs, giving me the comfort one would experience on a summer night as such.
My grey tank top and black shorts hug my body as I lean back onto my bed frame. I still have multiple cuts and bruises decorating my body, Its been two days and I have disinfected them all and bandaged the ones that were too exposed .
A sudden chill has small bumps rising on my skin. I look around and then outside to the forest area that surrounds the backside of the house through my wall length window.
I take my gun from my bedside table, approaching the long window, my body exposed to the hot night as I try to understand my sudden lack of loneliness.
Someone's out there, I can feel their eyes burning into me, searching me.
The sane, normal ,rational part wants to find this person and gut them like a pig but the other, I can't speak for it.
Because I can bet all my money that the person standing out there is the same person that wants me to kill my own blood.
I stand tall and still, my arms and gun by my side as my eyes squint under the faint light of the stars and moon.
My breath hitches in my throat as I look down.
My hearts beat exceeding as I look at the red light.
A small line of red light that is projected from the line of trees and hits the exact spot of my heart.
A threat, and a promise.
One that will not be fulfilled.
I keep a blank face because to feel as I do now is deranging. But to be seen feeling that would strip me bare.
Because he now knows. He knows of my home.
But he makes no move, has no motive.
He is here for one reason, to ignite a spark of fear and paranoia. But I have nothing to fear.
He will not do anything, will not make a move.
not now he won't
but Later
later he will
______________________
Its been a longgg time but I finally finished this chapter
word count:1078
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Broken Constellation
Romance"blood on your hands they say- as though it stops there ; at your wrists, like a glove as though you could do all of this and there couldn't be a part of you that isn't stained or dripping" They say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons an...
