Wildfire

(02)

Kenneth Deora

I walked into the house. For the first time I didn't have to be as quiet as possible. I don't know how I felt about that. I kept my coat and beelined to the bar. I needed to drink my day off and bandage my shoulder. No way she shot me in my own office. Well didn't she?  Oh come on. I downed the whiskey in one gulp. 

After a few more drinks I got up to bandage the bullet wound in my shoulder. The pain lingered like her fucking cherry and smoke scent. I knew how to handle bullet wounds without much trouble but I'm still shocked at the way she barged into MY office. When I had told Terra not to let anyone in, I think Terra must've gone to her boyfriend's office instead of mine. I could tell from her appearance. I can't fire them cause technically their relationship isn't public or official but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out.

I walked past my mother's room and as expected the door didn't move. The house was empty but I still hoped she wouldn't have just left after the incident. I couldn't exactly call her selfish. She did what she had to do.

My attempts to fall asleep failed miserably. I was wide awake thinking about that day. A part of my brain begging to erase it and the other replaying it as if to make me suffer more. It was engraved in my brain in very vivid detail.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT!" My mother's voice echoed in my head as it had been since it happened. It was my fault that's why she deserved to go and I didn't. 

Another glass of whiskey burnt as it spilled down my throat. I had never been a fan of or good with alcohol but now I used it as a punishment. To remind myself of what I did.

Between the memories a face flashed through my mind fast enough to not make me forget what I was thinking but long enough to prevent the panic attack I was inevitably heading towards. The face of pure and absolute evil. The face so perfectly controlled it was almost scary. The face that shot me with a smile today. 

I usually don't agree with people that easily but when she mentioned my forest visit I had no other choice. The visit where I buried my father. She could've asked me to strip naked and fuck her on the desk and I couldn't have said no. You wouldn't have said no anyways. That's not the point. The point is I was helpless. 

I drained the bottle into my glass, glaring at the empty bottle as it brought all the memories back. The blood, the screams, the guilt, the news headlines. "Garrison Deora gone missing. The police suspects his son Kenneth Deora."  My grip on the bottle tightened.  "Money is thicker than blood. Kenneth Deora the well loved son of Garrison Deora brutally murdered his own father to take over their family company."  My grip got tighter. "Did Kenneth Deora fall low to the point to kill his father for a mere company." The bottle shattered in my hands snapping me out of my head. 

"Fuck!" I yell out trying to at least let out some of the emotions in me. I look at my fingers as blood slowly but surely stained my hands. It wasn't the pain that fazed me, it was the blood. The realisation of what I had done. The blood that drained out of my father's throat was the the same blood that is now trailing down my hands.

I put my coat on, heading out knowing there's no point in trying to sleep today.

The city lights were shining, night life was in full swing and the scenery was moving backwards as I headed to God knows where I just needed some peace.

Mariana Montanari

I got back home after dealing with the corporate fucking brat. I didn't have much to do at the office but my decision to not work instantly turned to regret when I heard it again.

"No. No. No. Not right now. Mariana get yourself together." I whispered to myself as I tried ignoring the hallucinations.

"Missed me, Piccola ragazza?" My hands curl into fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wait till it starts bleeding so the sting can help me stay in reality. (Little Girl)

"Trying to escape, Mary? You know I don't like it." My breaths gets shallower and before I know it I'm back into that basement.

Mirrors all around me. So many of my own selves are looking down at me. A faint figure starts forming in front of me and I know exactly who it is. "Leave me alone!"

I know he's not here anymore, I know he can't hurt me. I know he's gone. But is he? He's not gone if I can still see him. He's not gone if I can still feel him.

As the figure got clearer my lung grew tighter.

The belt.

I know he's not here. but he is! And this is when logic, science, it all goes away.

Suddenly I'm Mary again..

And he's coming closer. I feel hands, and his breath on me. His eyes strip away any dignity I have. Again. 

The door opens,and I can hear him walking downstairs... Maybe it's food, I hope. or maybe water. I don't remember how long it has been since I've had any. I smell the beer off his breath as he came closer.

"Don't back away, little girl" I hate when he calls me that but he looks angry.

"I'm sorry." I managed to not move any further from him.

"Why do you sound like you're choking, little girl"

"I- I need some water." he leaves and a few minutes later the door opens again.

Maybe he'll get me water if I'm quiet.

I wait. Knowing I have no other option.

He comes back with a bucket. He drenches me sometimes when I look "as dirty as he says I am".

But maybe he'll let me drink some.

I watch him bring back the bucket and I freeze in my tracks.

Steam. There's steam.

"No- no- no please- I'm sorry-"

I scream.

Again.

My skin feels just as burnt and my throat is just as dry.

All I know is that he has his belt and a mirror. Multiple mirrors. So I can see the marks from all angles.

So I can see how much I ruined his perfect life.

I can feel his touch linger like I have felt for my whole life. It makes me want to burn my skin off.

There's me in the mirror.
Just as weak. Just as helpless.

"Fucking pathetic." Was all I remember saying before my vision goes black.