Sorrow | 18+

35 Pleading

A song to listen to: 

When Love And Death Embrace by HIM

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Zero

People begged for their lives either with their words or their eyes. Maybe it was simply an instinct, but it still annoyed me. When they picked this life, they should have known there wasn't any mercy for those who lost. Pleading had me pulling the trigger faster. It was the only act of pity I had in me to give out. Torturing them was useless, a waste of time.

My father did not beg for his life. He begged for understanding, for me to close my eyes, to keep his atrocious actions as a secret. He did not think one look into Celeste's eyes would make me dip my hands deep in his blood. The red under nails I scrubbed off for hours under water. When he realised his life was spilling out through the cut in his throat, my father's eyes dimmed before any pleading could happen.

Then she happened. Her eyes were full of tears, the wet spots on her cheeks mixed in black mascara. She was completely pathetic and still the look in her eyes startled me to lower my gun. There was acceptance, no steps back from her. It was clear that she would rather die if she didn't get past me. She became a fever dream, her features blurring with blood and smoke. I didn't believe there had been anyone I had let run away. Not until Vivienne's eyes clicked behind my gun once again. Not pleading for her life but for something else I couldn't read at that moment.

"You sure he didn't know anything?" The question woke me up from the deep abyss of unstable thoughts. Maybe I had fallen asleep for a moment while standing over a dead body. The brain matter spilled on the brown carpet floor because of the bullet I had shot some minutes ago.

"He was useless" I said to Cris and I did catch the brief suspicious look on his face. I was out for blood as he had hinted a few days ago. I was spiralling and they all could see it. I was avoiding her. I had been numb for five whole years, three months, two weeks and 4 days. Now I was burning in the presence of her. It agitated under my skin, a restlessness I unravelled on the nameless people piling under my shoes. The only therapy I was receiving.

Still I knew they didn't have any information for us. We were snatching wrong people, not catching the ones which could lead us forward. To let us eliminate the looming threat.

I flicked my lighter alive, the smoke filling my lungs. Cris left without words, his newborn life not waiting for him. Hassan and his boys came in to clean up, to hide the traces of us. I stood there, the cigarette burning in the gloomy room. Who would stay in this rigid motel? The brown walls and floors were hideous enough to hide any mess of the customers. It all seeped through, eternal stains in the cracks of walls. I snuffed out the burning stick to the small table which had been used as an ashtray many times before. A mark of everyone who had stepped inside and left.

The mansion was quiet when I arrived. The clock was striking barely past midnight. They were never home, here, at the mansion nowadays so the silence was a familiar occurrence. I was a half step in the stairs when I halted. I had changed to new clothes, but my skin felt itchy, dirty.

However, the shower in my room was too close to her. Too tempting to creak the door open and step inside. For the few days she had stayed I hadn't slept in my own bed. The faint smell of her was agonising. It had taken hold of the whole house, but especially on the hallway, too close to me.

I headed towards downstairs, to the spare bathroom we had next to the gaming room. The one where Cel usually cleaned all blood off and nobody else wanted to use it as the floor was permanently turned pink from white tiles. It was a mistake I realised as I arrived downstairs.

A dim light blinked under the door as I pushed it open. The huge TV was rolling end credits of some movie and the only sound was the weak music accompanying it. The dark leather sofa hid away whoever was in the room, but my heart knew immediately. It drummed fastly as I walked past the room. She was there. Eyes closed, chest moving steadily, hair spreading on the armrest. Her blanket was almost dropped to the carpet on the floor, revealing black t-shirt and hot pink shorts she was wearing. A sleeping beauty. Vivienne.

Maybe fate was tormenting me and I deserved it. Her face was peaceful unlike when she was awake. Every time I got a glimpse of her, there was something deep, sorrowful about her. Even when she smiled at her daughter, it had a hint of sadness. I feared it was my fault.

My fingers moved on their own. I traced her smooth skin that I had learned by heart too many days ago. Several goosebumps flawed my skin. She stirred slightly but I couldn't stop myself. It was a rare slip I allowed to myself. She owned me, truly. She might've not wanted to be but still she did. And I didn't own her. Not even a strand of her. So I let myself soak in the feeling of her. How I wished I could hold her for the night as in the past, watch her sleep curled against me, how her cheeks would blush with a tint of rose when I teased her as she woke up.

Minutes, maybe hours went by. I was in a trance like a lunatic. She moved her position, a flash of pain appearing in her expression. She was hurting, the sofa wasn't comfortable enough.

Carefully I picked her to my arms, her body pressed to my chest and my limbs shivering. My heart stopped when her head nuzzled closer to me, a tiny sigh leaving between her lips.

I tried to walk slowly and steadily, not to disturb her, but I reached the dark wooden door of her bedroom sooner than I wanted. A bedside lamp was lit. Its warm, dim light was keeping an eye on the tiny ball wrapped on the blankets.

I layed her gently on the left side of the bed. Her hand had curled to twist my clean dress shirt, like she didn't want to let go of me. For a moment I let her be, but I knew the truth. I tucked her hand under the pink blanket and fluffed the pillow under her head. She settled down, the brief signs of her waking up diminished.

"I'm sorry", I whispered to her forehead as I placed my lips to her skin. I brushed her loose curls away. I rose to my full height, ready to leave the room.

The tiny version of her was staring at me, her eyes wide open. She was examining me, the look so similar her mother wore. She was so rolled on the blanket that only her hair and nose were peeking under it. The expression was eerily neutral. All her attention unwaveringly on me. The darkness of her eyes catched me off guard. There was something so familiar in them.

Remi had the same look, the same darkness when he was young. When he was all serious, not the bubbly irritating personality he had hatched later on. His neutral eyes had been surveying me, my father, as my little brother himself had to wait in silence, in the background.

"Good night", I murmured, suddenly nervous and turned my back to them, to the room. I needed to leave the house. Fuck, I needed to kill somebody again. 

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Sorry this is short and just Zero being whiny lovesick puppy lol. 

I had to help my brother with his essay tonight so I didn't have time to write so it is a shorter chapter but didn't want to miss updating for a second week in a row .

Vote and comment ty <3