To Break Loose [Original]

Chapter Five

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Five
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Author: I must warn you, crazy chapter ahead!

It was the eeriness in the air...the thick darkness of that familiar space that disturbed Asher.

Sat upright against the familiar headboard of her bed with a cup of coffee in hand, Asher stared into an opposite wall.

She wouldn't say she was so used to it, she wasn't. It was still creepy sitting in a room with nothing but a dim night light on. Making absolutely no sound.

She peered up at the hole in the ceiling, where a light bulb would have been radiating a light she so much needed in that moment, thinking that it also ditched her to be all alone in the seemingly normal world.

Stray tears escaped her sleep deprived eyes, yet she simply felt numb.

Alone.

She wanted to end it right there.

As soon as the wicked thought crept in amongst the multitude, she harvested it, nursed it, craved for it.

She simply wanted to die.

Let off the burden before it crushed her frail shoulders.

She lowered her gaze to the black liquid she couldn't do without, failing to make out her own reflection. She put the cup down on the nightstand and forced herself up.

She trudged to the old trunk that sat at the corner of the small room and pulled it open. The silvery shine of the bladed object caught her eye.

She smiled.

Emery, she mused.

She remembered stealing it, along with a couple other things in that room she stole when she ran away.

Emery.

Her friend, her solace. Always had been calling out to her in tiny whispers. She'd promised to help Asher end her pain, she'd promised to stop the nightmares, to bring the rest and inner peace she was desperate for.

"Emery..." The words tumbled out of her parched lips "I... I think I'm ready" she whispered with a smug smile, another tear sliding down her cheeks.

It would be a brave move; one step out of reality and into eternity, where nothing mattered.

The joy she felt from having to do what she wanted to propelled her to go down to her knees and gently lift the dagger out of the trunk. She cradled it in her hands like it was sacred. It felt like it was because, it promised peace and only sacred things promised peace.

She marvelled at it.

"Beautiful..." She cooed in a soft whisper.

She didn't think she had anything to lose. Afterall, nobody would care.

She'd left a track of artworks all over the bay's most cherished walls, and a legacy. One of a daring criminal artist whom the world would never know.

That was enough for her. She was satisfied with that. Besides, she got caught so it might as well have been a means to an end.

Her end.

The whole world would be revolving, regardless.

She took a moment to look around that tacky room. Dust settled on everything but her bed. The bed, it was the only one who embraced her in time of grief, who didn't think her sorrow was a disturbance. Her bed seemed to understand her more that Laramie did. More than the whole world did.

She'd left a permanent groove in the left side of that bed, one that if eventually after many years someone would break in to sell off the apartment, they would find it and know that someone did exist there. Someone did live, maybe not breathing but living.

Oh she wouldn't forget her pillow. Cadence.

Upon which she laid her head. Cadence wordlessly collected all her tears and blood, he didn't complain either.

With a lump rising in her throat, she forced her eyes away from the bed...a little to the right, where a cracked full length mirror sat. Asher gazed upon the strange reflection in the mirror, failing to believe it was truly hers. She didn't believe anything was hers. The girl looked horrible with sunken eyes and dark circles beneath them... That girl stared back at Asher. No words, just a solid gaze.

For a second there Asher actually thought she could understand the agony in that girl's eyes, it was similar-much similar-to hers. Asher pulled a lopsided smile at the girl, as if to say, I know how you feel.

Sadly, the girl didn't smile back. She didn't receive the reassurance Asher was trying to give her. She remained rigid, with a haunting gaze that made Asher's smile die slowly.

She quickly tore her eyes away as they'd begun to water. She hated anything that reminded her of what she was.

Alone.

Her own reflection detested her.

Asher returned her eyes to the object still cradled in her palms. It had sat in them for minutes yet its metal blade was still cool to the touch. Asher chuckled wryly, her own hands failed to warm. She had no warmth in her.

When the voices in her head seemed to grow louder she put down the dagger and pulled off her pajama shirt, the only thing that stood between her skin and its tip.

She cringed at the bruises that lined her ribs, the dark spots around her waist line and the fact that they remained on her pale skin, a permanent reminder of those horrid nights, nights she barely made it out of alive.

She shut her eyes instantly.

I need to end this, she thought.

Once and for all.

She grasped the object by its handle and raised her arms high up... Her heart racing by then, filling her with a whole different wave of adrenaline.

The sound of a notification echoed throughout the small space, waking her.

She turned to the cellphone that lay only a feet away. She'd tossed it to the floor hours ago in frustration.

The screen remained lit up, a familiar pop-up blocking her wallpaper.

She knew that notification.

It was from Dark quotes magazine. Something that always fueled her fire, and further accelerated her need to drive the tip of that dagger through her gut.

Her brows drew together when she read the day's quote:

"What?.." she stuttered

It must've been some joke. It must've been a mistake.

Dark quotes magazine didn't say things that sounded like what she'd seen.

She drew closer to the device to clarify her thoughts, she again read the three word long message on it,

One more day.

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Author: 👀