{𝑺𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔}
𝐙𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 is filled with holes. As much as she tries taping them closed off, one always manages to reopen and spill all of her sorrow once again, leaving the people she loves to catch them with buckets...
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I should stop drinking.
I think to myself as I feel a massive headache slowly bloom in my head. It feels like my skull is about to combust, and I try gritting my teeth to soften the pain. It doesn't help one fucking bit.
When I try peeling my eyes open, the sharp pain in my head only worsens, and it feels like there's a whole ass weight laying on my eyelids.
Fuck. Me.
When I try moving my arms and legs, and it doesn't have any effect either, except making my head almost burst open, I realize there's something way bigger going on than a hangover.
And when I try opening my eyes once again, against the headache in, and it still has no result, I start to really panick.
Did I get drugged or some shit?
I can't even groan in pain, and I almost cry out in frustration, but once again, I'm unable to do even that.
I feel like a human trapped in the body of a broken fucking doll. Those ones you see at the antique store and which would be most likely haunted by some kind of demon. Yeah, that's what this feels like minus the demon part. I wish there even was a demon, then maybe I would be able to at least move my own limbs.
When I feel a soft slumber take over my senses, I don't struggle against it, and let myself drift off, thinking to myself how it's the only thing I'm able to do.
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I almost jump out of my skin when the machine attached to my brother starts beeping hysterically, and I see the number on the screen rapidly multiply.
He's dying now.
I keep rethinking that exact thought, until a nurse enters the room and shoots something up his veins, making his heart rate return to a normal steady beep.
It's okay, he was just having a nightmare. No reason to stress.
Slumping back down in my chair, I watch over my brother. It's only Lucas and me once again, as my other brothers are already browsing and looking as to who could've tried to murder my brother. Eleandro must've had the same idea as me, because he asked a nurse a few hours ago, if Diego could've done this to himself. My heart started working again when that nurse told us he couldn't have shot himself because it's impossible for a normal human being to shoot through his own lung with such precision.
