RED

07| red

NADIA

The hot water cascaded down my body, washing away the day's grime and sweat. As I let the steam envelop me, I closed my eyes and tried to let go of the day's tensions.

I stepped out of the shower, the warm water having done little to wash away the memories that lingered in my mind.

I wrapped my towel around my body, inhaling the steam that rose from my skin, trying to erase the thoughts that always resurfaced when I wasn't distracted. The memories clung to me like a damp shroud, refusing to let go.

I went through the motions of my skincare routine, my hands moving on autopilot as my mind wandered back to the past. I covered my body with my silk pajamas, the soft fabric a comforting embrace. As I unplugged my phone from the charger, I saw a text from Vicky, her message a stark contrast to the turmoil in my head.

She was apologizing for her brother's behavior, her words a reminder of what happened in the dance room. She was determined to get me to her house for a study session, refusing to take no for an answer.

I playfully rolled my eyes, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I typed out a response. My mind was still elsewhere, but Vicky's message had momentarily pulled me back into the present. I left my room, heading downstairs to the kitchen, where my brother was waiting, his presence a reminder that I wasn't alone in this world.

The memories would always linger, but with a little distraction, maybe I could learn to silence them, if only for a little while.

But it was hard, I ran my fingers through my braids, trying to make sense of it all.

No, Nadia stop.

Stop thinking think about him.

I told myself. I didn't like this feeling I felt- this familiar feeling that reminded me of Sam. The worst part of all is that Elijah did; it was as if there were the same person in two different bodies.

"How was your first day?" Zeke asked, his question breaking my focus on my phone. I raised an eyebrow, switching off my phone and placing it on the kitchen island. "Why do you care?" I asked, my tone hinting at skepticism. Zeke shrugged, offering me a packet of cookies, which I accepted gratefully.

"Spit it out, Zeke. I know you too well to believe this sudden interest in my day," I said, my eyes narrowing slightly.

"Who was that girl you were arguing with?" Zeke finally asks, and I roll my eyes in disbelief. "Oh please, don't tell me you like her, do you?" I say, hoping he doesn't. The last thing I want is for the self-proclaimed Queen of the school to fall for my brother, and I'd have to see her face outside of school - how tragic.

"No, I don't," he says, and I raise an eyebrow. "Then why do you ask?" I say, exasperated. "How is that any of your business?" I roll my eyes again, knowing my brother's reputation as a player.

He's aware of his good looks and uses them to his advantage, just like our dad was back in the day. Mom's stories about Dad's Casanova ways make it clear where Zeke gets it from.

I shake my head and march towards our parents' study, which has been locked since they left. Zeke catches up to me, stopping me just short of the door. "Whoa, what are you doing?" he asks, his hand on my arm.

"Why are you guys always so damn secretive about this study?" I demand, frustration simmering. "I'm old enough to know whatever it is you're hiding. You always treat me like I'm too naive to understand, but I can take care of myself now." I'm tired of being kept in the dark, always promised "one day" but never given any real answers.

Zeke starts to speak, but I cut him off, finishing his sentence for him. "Trust you? Is that what you were going to say?" I scoff. my voice dripping with sarcasm. "You never tell me anything, but you expect me to blindly trust you? That's pathetic." I shake off his hand and storm upstairs to my room, trying to shake off the feeling of frustration and hurt that always seemed to follow these conversations.

That night, my mind raced with thoughts, refusing to quiet down.

I lay in bed, consumed by a mix of emotions and memories, unable to shut off my brain. Insomnia had become a familiar foe, and I knew I needed a crutch to escape its grip.

With a sigh, I got out of bed and reached for the sleeping pills I kept on my nightstand. I hesitated for a moment, I didn't like the fact that I resorted to them, but the allure of a few hours of peace won out. I took two pills and waited for their effects to kick in, eventually drifting off to sleep, my mind finally silenced.