𝚸1 𝐎𝐅 𝚨 " 𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝚸𝚨𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒" | 18+
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A voice so tempting triggers the darkest parts of her mind, it makes her think unimaginable things, like the pain she thought she escaped.
His obsession for her deeply and darkly abnormal, the i...
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19
Reign Gusev is my life. It's clear that it's no longer my own. I'm still trying to soak in the fact I have no other option, but to survive with such a possessive, psychotic, handsome, narcissistic man. Apart of me has already died when I saw Tommie laid stretch out with her dead eyes on mine. The clear images haunt me everyday, I won't be able to control my future breakdowns. I guarantee I will soon implode.
Why couldn't he just let me be? I will never ever do anything to experience almost drowning on a table or being hung over a cliff again. I was truly terrified. Every frightening thing he promised would happen, happened.
There's a voice inside me, relentless, taunting, as if I can't fully break free. No matter how numb or broken I become towards him, his touch still sends a jolt through my body, a shock that burns hotter than any drug ever could. I wonder if it's the danger that pulls me in, this power he holds over me—something no one else has, something no one could ever understand.
No one would dare to help me. This man will be my ruin, my complete self-destruction, and, somehow, I find myself accepting it, arms wide open to the chaos he will bring.
"My little sunshine," I whisper, my voice quivering with the weight of the words. "I dream of seeing your tiny face, melting over your baby scrunch, your little button nose, your chunky cheeks. I'm so sorry..." My voice breaks, the tears threatening to spill. "But your mom... I'm in a really bad place. I can't take care of you the way you deserve. But I want you to know, I loved you the moment I found out you were there, growing inside me, the little one I never thought I'd hold."
The sadness floods me, drowning me in a downpour of emotion, each word heavy with regret and loss. It's a rain that won't stop, and it's a weight I don't know how to carry.
I stood before a mirror gently rubbing my growing lower stomach— a tear fell to the crease of my nose.
I grew up somewhat a ghost in my own home, and to put the icing on the cake the only child. My mom did the best she could raising me, my dad broke her heart throughout their relationship, and for the last time when died during surgery.
I still remember that unforgettable night in the waiting room. The doctors rushed my dad to the OR, he had internal bleeding that erupted in his brain, to stop the bleed the only option was to take parts of his frontal lobe.
A human wouldn't see longevity in survival without it since it does control your movement and speech. My father shortly flat lined.
Moments later we got the devastating news. I didn't have time to react my mother had already collapsed on the floor hyperventilating. I saw her damaged and heartbroken for the last time...
My father's last words to me involved succeeding to lead in his footsteps. My story changed for a completely different direction—so has my biggest fears.
