Sins of the Past

Chapter 5

Diana.

What is despair?

I feel as if I've turned into a road. A highway, with cars, bikes, motorcycles, and all sorts of vehicles passing over me. And the most intriguing part is that cracks are starting to appear on this road.

My nightgown barely covers my butt, my hair is a mess, and my head is full of nonsense.

Perhaps it was a good decision not to attend yet another party today. I wonder, don't they get tired of the same thing every single day?

Sylvia warned me there'd be a fight involving Leon tonight. I'd actually love to see it, but I'm not stupid enough to go there for him. It's already obvious he's sharpening his teeth to sink them into my neck.

Mikael's been reminding me all week that we should hang out together. Do I want to? No. He's really attractive and fun, but my life is strange enough without adding relationships into the mix. I need a real fiancé, not some fling for pleasure.

— "When are you going back to your room?" Mia is braiding her long blue hair, her brush in hand.

— "I like your room better, sweetie."

— "Don't call me that," she retorts, mimicking a lunge with her brush.

I throw my hands up in mock surrender, jumping off the bed.
— "Too weak without a weapon?"

Mia rolls her green eyes, stepping forward.
— "This isn't fun."

I raise my hands higher, accepting defeat, and adjust my nightgown, which has once again ridden up.
— "Could you please go back to your room? I'm trying to sleep," she gestures toward her bed, where a plush blue dragon is resting.

Still, I don't want her to grow up.
— "I want to stay in these apartments," I say, gesturing to the whole room.

She knows I like this room more than my own. I've made my room feel like me, just as Mia has hers, but this one feels safer — surrounded by her dozen stuffed toys.

— "You didn't bring me the orange juice I asked for. Entry to my apartments is locked until you do."

— "Sweetie, you know the juice is on the first floor in the fridge. You could easily get it yourself."

If there were no juice, that'd be one thing. But the problem is, there's always juice. Mia drinks only juice and water. That's it.

— "Rewind our conversation and recall what I said earlier."

I lean over and kiss her lavender-oil-scented cheek. I gave her that oil — it suits her better.

Mia hums her song, crawling under the blanket.
— "Sweet dreams," I say, turning off the main light but leaving the bedside lamp on.
— "You too."

I leave her room, closing the door behind me. The corridor is silent, everyone long asleep. It's time I joined them. I need to study tomorrow so I can have a free Sunday. Sleep is crucial.

In my room, it's almost dark except for the faint glow of streetlights illuminating the figure at my window.

I'd run if I didn't know who it was. But with that godlike silhouette, there's no mistaking it.

Still, I open my mouth to scream. Anything to scare him off.

But I can't, because his heavy body slams into mine, his hand covering my parted lips.

My mouth hurts from being pressed against my teeth. If he squeezes harder, I'll taste my own blood.

His other hand grips the fabric of my nightgown at my chest, tugging it roughly.