Who?

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It's been 4 months or so, we live somewhere. I don't know where we live in all honesty. I haven't talked to Nicholai ever since he embarrassed the shit out of me in front of these random people. It's always random men and women that pass through here. I fucking hate it here, I want so badly to go back to my apartment with just me and Nichole. So, fucking badly. I'm not depressed or anything, at least I don't think. It's like I don't care but I do care. The first month away from Nichole I cried at least three times a day. Nicholai would just leave me in our room which is now just his room. I couldn't sleep in the same bed as him after I realized he would leave to fuck other women and come back at night to hold me like nothing happened. Life is just really not it right now.


I just need my baby back and to get away from this man. I don't even want to refer to him I used to love because he's not him anymore. Those weren't- they couldn't be the same men. I read the time on a laptop he gave me a week ago, it's 2:34 am. I swallow the dread I experience every time I move without knowing if my baby is alive or not and get out of bed. I run my hand over my hair which has been in a braided back for about 15 months. I practically drag myself downstairs, using my hands to feel around and stop myself from running into walls. When I get to the decent-sized modern kitchen, I can barely make out a tall black figure.


...am I tweaking?


Ignoring it I go to the pantry and flip on the light to grab a pack of noodles I turn around to leave but instead get jump scared by Nicholai's ugly self. I grumble under my breath, shouldering past him. Well not really but I tried to.

I grab a pot, fill it with water, and put it on a burner. I rub my forehead trying to ignore Nicholai's rough stare burning into the side of my face.

"If I can't fuck you, can you try putting some clothes on" He mumbles loud enough for me to barely hear. I scratch my eyebrow, glance at him, and then put my noodles in the water. Admittedly I could've put pants on but I didn't, so now what? I didn't even know he was here, so of course I would walk around in a tank top and underwear.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" He asks me, and I look at him again before grabbing a plastic fork and bowl. He has a bad scar going down the side of his face. He got it a while ago; I was so concerned when he came back all bloodied and beaten. I never thought I'd see him like that. I don't know I almost felt like he was indestructible..on the outside at least.

Nonetheless, the scar only made him look sexier. Not the point though. I mix my noodles, breaking them apart in the pot, ignoring him in the process. Nicholai comes behind me and stuffs his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.

I hot rage spread throughout my body and before I can think the words are falling out of my mouth "Get the fuck off of me bitch, don't touch me ever again". I didn't mean for it to come out so hostile, hell, I didn't mean for it to come out at all.

He lets go of my hips and takes a quick step back. I don't look at him, only listen to his soft footsteps as he leaves the kitchen. I let out a heavy sigh.

I stretch my body waking up from my sleep for like the fifth time now

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I stretch my body waking up from my sleep for like the fifth time now. It's sometime during the afternoon and I'm trying very freaking hard to stay asleep, I just wish to sleep the day away. Accepting that I won't be getting any more sleep I get up and head to the washroom. Mumbling under my breath about bullshit I get ready to take a shower. I was thinking about using my scrubs and shaving, maybe even washing my hair but I dead that idea because I don't want to put in the effort even if I know it might make me feel better.

Ignoring how miserable it makes me feel that I didn't even want to put in the effort to properly take care of myself I get in the shower and wash all the dirt and grime off my body. I get out, dry myself off, and moisturize my body which I hadn't done in a while. It felt good, baby steps or whatever.

I don't bother to put on any type of clothes I just slip on my rob and leave the room. I know Nicholai isn't home and to entertain myself I decide to go snoop in his room. Biting my bottom lip, I unconsciously stand on my tippy toes to make my footsteps lighter. He's not hear but it makes it more exciting to act like he might catch me at any moment.

I open his door and walk into the room, it's the same old room. I don't know why I was expecting something new. A bra hangs on the door and it's definitely too big to be mine. My stomach drops and I feel the violent need to leave before I do something stupid. Chewing on my bottom lip I walk over to his side of the bed; well, he really sleeps in the middle of the bed with his legs spread out like he's not already big. He often forgets how big he is.

The first thing I see is a gun on his dresser.

"Well... I've never seen that before" I run my fingers over it, the cold metal under my fingertips causing a light shiver to rack my body. How reckless of him to leave this here, unattended. Under the gun is a pink folder. I slide it from under the gun and contemplate whether or not I should be nosier than I already have.

Mumbling "Fuck it" under my breath I open it and immediately my face scrunches in confusion. The room is lit but I still turn on the lamp to make sure I'm seeing what I'm seeing correctly. My heart drops and my ears start ringing. I run my hand over the paperwork and pictures inside the file to make sure I'm not seeing things.

"What the fuck" I flip through the paperwork barely registering what is being said on the many documents. I can hear my blood running through my veins. It's deafeningly loud and the ringing. The fucking ringing.

I'm so confused right now it's insane. I try to take deep breaths but it's not working. It's like the air is getting stuck in my fucking throat.

Then it all stops. I can't take in air anymore. My blood stops circulating through my body. The ringing is nowhere to be found. I can only feel the cool metal of a gun running up my spine.

No, I know not. Nicholai knows not. So who was this gun pressed against my spine, threatening to paralyze me.

















































don't be ghost readers, kisses 💋

ᴅɪᴠᴇʀɢᴇɴᴛ ɢᴀʟᴏʀᴇ. (DISCONTINUED)Where stories live. Discover now