WHO KILLED VICTORIA? | Complete

Chapter Thirty Three | In My Head Lives a Mad Man

QOTD: WHAT MAKES YOU A BETTER WRITER?

Samuel's POV

2 Months Until Victoria's Death...

"Christina." I quickly get up and check the time. 11:40 pm, I could've easily died. I thought to myself. It's scary, sitting in a house with strangers, and these strangers aren't random people you meet as you walk down the park with your dog. They aren't the type of strangers you meet on your trip down the country. These aren't the strangers that become the people you spend most of your time with. These strangers, they're different. These strangers feed on you, on your aura —- on your soul.

They could've eaten me alive as I slept on that small bean bag. I would've lost everything I've built because my eyes beat me, and I cannot allow that to happen again. "I'm sorry I startled you," She placed the strand of hair dropping from her forehead behind her ear in a heartbeat.

 "Can we talk?" I looked at her for a couple of seconds. Analyzing her true intention with this little talk of hers. I couldn't understand why she would want to speak to me, let alone be in a room with me, alone, at night. If I was more comfortable with the current situation I would've lept at the chance of getting my arms around her throat once more. Hell, I'll grab the gun I saw Damian hide under his desk and kill all of them. Every last one. Only then could I walk back to my queen and tell her that I am her knight in shining armor.

 I can picture myself, drenched in blood. Not anyone's blood, but Damian's and Isabella's. I place a gentle knock on Victoria's door as the rain slams into the ground behind me, resembling the perfect background noise for this scenario. I can see Victoria open the door and welcome me with big arms and a small smile drawn across her face. I lean in and kiss her as the last drop of rain traces my skin, and alas, we would have won and this story would finally be over, but I can't. The reality is, Victoria ditched me and quit. She gave me everything I once wanted, needed, and threw it on the floor and stepped on it. She ruined me, and now that I have a chance at ruining her and everything she has built, I wasn't going to stop.

"Ofcourse," I smiled, misleading Christina to think I'm her ally again. I took a deep breath and followed Christina to a hollow room filled with mirrors. I turn around in amazement, letting myself get lost in the moment. The room was large, too large for any room I've ever seen. I look up at the beautiful emerald chandelier hanging perfectly in the middle. The sunset light scarring the walls, and then hundred, no, thousands of mirrors filled up the entire room. Whichever direction you look, you see an infinite amount of people, versions of yourself looking right back at you. Some of them looking at you in disgust, the other part looking down at you, and then there was you, so small and alone —- so scared from the outside. 

"Why'd you bring me here?" I asked, my voice echoing across the walls. I waited for a reply, but I never got one. I looked around the room and saw all these people looking at me. All these voices screaming. Calling me names and reciting phrases that have been said to me. Anger filled my veins and took over. I ran towards the first mirror and slammed my fist into it, another mirror, and another. I didn't stop, I couldn't.

I kept hearing them laugh at me, I kept hearing them laugh at me. Make a miserable man out of me. These people, these human entities that look like me are not me. They're simply versions, versions of me that I have created in my mind.

 "Christina!" I yelled, but no one answered. My cries hit these walls and echoed back in my head. I could hear my cries and only mine, and with time my cries faded. I was growing old, my once perfect set of hair turned white, and my tattoos green. I could see my reflection one last time before I departed from this world. I have called out Christina's name for years now and not once did she reply. I couldn't catch my breath anymore. I looked at my wrinkles. I looked at life, slowly fading away and leaving me, and then I saw her. The queen of Rivervine, smiling down at me, waiting for her knight to finally come and bow down in front of her again.

With all the power left I had left. I closed my eyes and cried once more, only this time I was calling for her.

"I'm not Victoria you weirdo." Isabella put her phone down and looked at me. Where am I? I got up and looked around. Nothing had changed.

Damian was still playing his game, and Isabella was sitting next to Christina scrolling on their phones. Was I dreaming?

"What happened?", I asked.

"I guess your plan works Damian," Isabella winked at Damian, ignoring my question altogether. "Looks like what worked?" I asked again, paranoia eating me alive, "Guys what fucking plan are you—"

"Your drink was spiked idiot." Christina spat, "We have a plan," She smiled at Damian and Isabella, then looked at me again, "and you were merely collateral damage. A lab rat." I turned to face the wall to hide my emotions that were eating up my skin. I couldn't let them see. My mother always told me that to find yourself you must lose it all. And I have lost it all and found myself. 

I turned around to see a shock on all three of their faces when they noticed a smile on my face. Laughing at them and ruining their pleasure of seeing me down. "How are you so okay with this?" Christina put her phone down and put her focus on me. Damian left his desk for the first time in ages, "What did you guys use. Is what interests me to be honest." I walked to the middle of the room, keeping all three of them in front of me in case one of them decides to take a shot at me. "It's a new drug in the market," Damian said proudly. "You stop telling whether you are in reality or not." He exchanged looks with Isabella, "And the funny part, after a certain dose, you won't be able to ever tell the difference between real and fake." He turns to his desk again, claiming his victory. "So tell me Samuel," He asked, eyes on the screen, "How do you know if I am real right now or not?"

"I mean," I said, "I could put a bullet in your head and find out if you'd like?"

"Oh go fuck yourself," Isabella walks in between Damian and I, "Samuel you're in reality," She turns to Damian, "and Damian we fucking need him!"

The room took a minute to cool off, and that was when Christina decided to remind me that she still existed and her question was never answered, "How did you laugh?" I could see the fear on her face, trying to hide behind this bitchy smile. "I answered mom's question," I said. Christina sat down on the couch next to me. "How can you find out who you truly are?" Christina giggled. My mother did hate Christina and I alot, and we made sure to remember that question to our graves to think about. Mother never approved of Christina because she always said she is a person who will never find out who they truly are if they stay so close to their lovers, and I was her lover at the time, so it kind of makes sense now. I never understood why mother worried so much about my future, even when she had no intention of staying in it, but now I get it. I understand everything she ever said about Christina. I can never be with her, because she fits in with whoever, and that scares me.

"So," Christina placed her hand on my thigh, "Did you find the answer?" I got up and moved her hand off of me. Looking up at the walls of this living room, getting flashes of everything that happened in this horrid nightmare I had earlier. "I did indeed Christina." I giggled, "Why do you think I was laughing when I found out I was drugged?"

She shrugged, "I wouldn't know, I'm not stupid enough to get drugged."

I kept calm and didn't let her words get to me, because so help me God she would not make it out alive. "You must lose it all to learn who you truly are," I said, ignoring her comment, "and I, my love, ended up being a psychopath."

I suddenly felt the urge to cry, but no, not a normal cry. No, absolutely not. My definition of crying was different — very different. You see, I grew up picturing a world that didn't exist. Hanging out with people that were never there, and therefore I ended up being a broken shard on the floor, a piece of a diamond so small it's transparent to the naked eye. No one ever saw me, and no one ever will. I knew that. I believed that deep in my bones. I was unwanted. I was unnoticed. I was a nobody. All people saw as they walked next to me, breathed in my direction, or even stepped foot in a place I once visited. They would think of a psychopath. A person with so much pain buried deep inside. A person who befriended his demons rather than run to his parents and friends, telling them all about his creepy thoughts and them helping him get through it. A person who was alone and shallow. A person so shattered. A madman. A complete, and utter, psychopath.