{The Ramusson Estate}

{L-2}

 Sweating and panting, I woke up. What was that dream? I looked at my hands; my breath was quivering. It must've been my imagination, right?

I felt as if an illness had plagued me. My gasps for air were met with what felt like an endless struggle, a battle for something I couldn't have dreamt of winning. Through the sickening silence, each second that passed felt like a moment closer to death; however, I wasn't dying.

My mind drifted off; those thoughts where you just can't focus on anything but them filled my head.

Soon, without even realising, my breathing was normal. What felt like a storm was now a light pour; my sorrows left as each heavy breath left the grasp of my mouth. With the world feeling like it had frozen, the illusion broke as natural yellow rays of light crept into my room, illuminating everything it touched with a soft glow.

I tapped around, looking through my sheets and on my bedside for my phone, eventually feeling a hard surface when rummaging around my pillows.

When I turned it on, I'd look at the time. It was dawn.

Right, it was dawn.

It's.

Dawn.

I shot out of bed, immediately taking a shower before grabbing and putting on whatever clean clothes I could find before jostling my door open and beginning my daily chores.

Time passed, the birds would chirp, the sun would rise even further up, and I, I..

. . .

I fell against the wall, leaning onto it for support, as if my body were to break if I dared to let it come into contact with the floor.

In a panic, I used what strength I had left, gathering it all up, and rushed to my room. Well, I wish that were the case.

With each step making my body feel stiff, each step feeling like just another trek through thick snow, each step making my body want to fall over and just quit, I'd slowly, but surely, make it to my room.

I shakily wobbled, leaning against the wall for support once again, my hands just barely able to get a firm grasp on the keys in hand. I fiddled with the key, poking it various times to get it in.

Feeling the key slide in, I turned it to the side and heard a click, a sound that gave me a short-lived sense of relief.

I opened the door, jostling my way in.

Locking it behind me, I shut the door.

Nobody would see this.

Nobody.

The number of people I felt I should know was none; this shouldn't be known.

It would give him too much power. It would put me at a disadvantage.

I'm okay.

A little heart problem never bothered me.

With each word that passed through my mind, a void gaped bigger, one that was like a blackhole; no amount of words could sustain its insatiable hunger for sorrow.

Anyway, it's not like it matters anyway.

The staff think I'm fine. My sisters think I'm fine. The world thinks me, the renowned journalist and investigator, is fine.

I am, after all.

Without even realising it, I fade out of consciousness.

The once pathetic attempts at self-comfort turn to silence. Here I was, on the floor.