Jane P.O.V.
Gasping for air from the deep depths of my lungs, I pant as I lock myself in the bedroom that is hidden away at the end of the corridor, my chest rising and falling with each breath. I need to be as far away from her as possible, at least until I'm out of here. There is no other way. If I don't escape, she will kill me. I'm getting out of here, I'm escaping. The only reason I was alive was because she wanted me, needed me, and my body. I smack my thoughts away as I slide down to the floor, my back leaned against the black door. How could she do this? She promised me. She promised we would be reunited.
His gentle face, covered by his squared black glasses, projected in my mind. My head spins like a Tagada, my thoughts waving back and forth like a treacherous storm. I'm trying to process everything that's happened tonight but the only face clawing my brain is his. He didn't deserve this, he tried so hard to protect me and I betrayed him by loving his killer. How could this be happening?
My eyes are blurred, the only thing I can feel is the stinging of my wet cheeks. I feel so numb. How do I tell my step mom I killed her husband? How do I tell her it's all my fault? That I'm a mistake. My body is merely a shell as I lay numb on the floor, the cold tile seeping through my shorts. My windpipes are clear yet I can't breathe.
***
The sunlight hits my face, waking me up from my heavy daze, the pain in my back reminding me I'm still on the floor. I uncurl myself as I sit up slowly before I squint my eyes to clear them before opening them fully, steadily walking over to the alarm clock at the edge of the bed. The numbers 5:24 AM stare back at me as I watch the little dots that flash with each passing second. I observe it like a hawk, the numbers doubling as a result of my fogged eyes.
"Jane?" a gentle voice calls out, his voice penetrating my doze as I turn to my name being called. There he is, my dad. This was all a really bad dream. "Why are you staring at the clock?" he asks softly with a warm chuckle. A warm tingle fills my chest as my lips widen in an exhilarated smile.
"Are you real?" I question in a whisper, my voice croaking as I step towards him.
His eyes wrinkle into a beautiful smile, confused by my question. "Oh, my baby, of course I'm real. Is something wrong?" he inquires, his face morphing into a worried expression. In relief, I ran over to him to embrace him, although, to my surprise, my hands seep through his core. I step back, in denial at what has just happened. His once realistic face suddenly evaporates into dust. No, it can't be. He was just here a second ago. I shifted my body around, searching the furnished room to find where he could have vanished. My lungs release an exasperated groan as my body spins, hoping – wishing I'm mistaken. This can't be happening. No, he's not dead. He's real. I just saw him.
"Papa? Where did you go?" I stammer out into a gradual whisper, desperate to be in his arms. "Come back Papa" I say softly with a stifled cry. My arms wrap around my waist, consoling myself subconsciously. I feel each second trail past me as I wait for some kind of response, my eyes dangerously focused on my surroundings. The waking chirps of birds blend seamlessly with my weeps, pulling my attention to the window. Maybe he jumped, maybe he's outside. The pads of my toes lifted in the air as I stepped towards the window, my eyes falling upon the never-ending forest in the distance.
My palm imprints onto the clear glass, staring down at the ground, scanning for any sign of his body. To my demise, the revelation that he was merely a figment of my imagination dwells through my mind. Grasping onto the cold strands of my hair, I let my body slide onto the floor. A strangling quietude simmers around me, the exterior chirps now fading along with my hopes. A heaviness drags onto my eyelids, persuading me to succumb to a well needed rest, but my mind won't let me.
***
A demonic growl in my stomach makes my abdomen tense as I ignore the calls from Genevieve at the door, pleading for me to let her feed me. I don't want food, I want him. Nothing matters now that he is gone. Living is pointless.
"Jane, please open the door, darling" Genevieve gently urges, her voice muddled by the door separating us. How can she pretend like she cares when we all know if Carmilla did this, Genevieve has to know about it too, and she never told me. "Just open the door, I won't come in" she tries to persuade in her sweet and motherly tone. The genuineness in her voice raises so many conflicting emotions in my heart, doubting her guilty verdict on the matter.
"I'm not hungry" I utter with a grunt, my eyes trailing onto the strand of hair on the floor that my hands are twisting.
I can hear her let out a skeptic chuckle. "That's impossible, you've been in there for a whole day now" she elucidates. Has it been that long already? I didn't get to witness time pass, all I could do was contemplate how this is now my reality. I glance over at the clock, its numbers confirming her certitude.
"Still, I'm not hungry" I rebuke, loud enough for her to hear my resistance. I have no appetite. How could I be eating when my father's dead? How can I continue to live when he was murdered? My head leans back in defeat upon not hearing her footsteps discarding. "Please, just go" I suggest in an almost pleading rhythm. I would rather never see her again, than have to deal with her confession. Her confirmation will only break me even more. I can't handle that, not right now.
She lets out an audible sigh. "I'm not going anywhere, Jane. I don't care that you hate me right now, I just need to know you've eaten" she proclaims softly, her statement sending a sharp dag into my heart. She knows everything, and that makes it worse. Losing Carmilla will hurt for an excruciating, long time, but losing Genevieve would shatter me completely. Genevieve's love will always have the biggest impact on my heart. She always cared, always showed me home even when this place resembled hell, even when things were weird, I never doubted her love for me. That is a heartbreak I can't handle. "Just open the door," she concludes, a slither of a crack in her voice making me stand up slowly.
I hear her shoes receding as my feet approach the locked door. Carefully, I place my fingers around the silver key inside the keyhole, twisting it until I hear a click. Replacing the keys with the handle, I open the door slowly to reveal a tearful Genevieve. Her delicate hands are wrapped around the box of home-made food, keeping it warm as she smiles slightly. The mixture of guilt and relief leaks out of her eyes as she takes a step forward. She reaches her arms out for me to accept her food offering. "Spring rolls and rice, your favorite" she blissfully said in a murmur.
What is on the menu today makes me drool internally, how I could devour that right now. Expecting that she herself cooked it, makes a slither of drool flood the gap between my bottom teeth and lips. I lift my arms out to latch onto the box of food she so carefully prepared just for me. I thanked her quietly which could have been mistaken for a whisper, a grateful smile creeping over my lower face. Without a moment to react, Genevieve engrossed me into a tight hug. My body stones as she caves her head into my clavicle, her warm breath brushing against my skin. Her endearment suffocates me as little droplets fall onto my shoulders, causing me to loosen my rigid state. My arms remain flat in the air, my right hand gripping onto the food I so desperately want to devour.
"I'm sorry" is all Genevieve can muster as she wraps her palm around my scalp, delicately stroking her fingers through my hair. Her pattern of weaving through the strands of my hair makes me melt, slowly giving into her embrace. Her grip firms as she feels my hands on her lower back, resulting in me holding my breath to keep my ribs in place. Once she was satisfied, Genevieve gradually let go of my body. "I couldn't bear to deliver the news" she confesses, her voice buried in shame and humiliation.
YOU ARE READING
Burn The Devil (MAFIA GXG)
Action"You don't want me to fuck you then?" She whispers, pulling me forward as her thigh presses against my core. "I need to find someone my own age" I whisper back, biting my lip to hide the moan that's trying to escape as she grinds her thigh on me. ...
