❝Goddammit! I hate you! I hate you and your dumb voice! and your stupid muscles and your awfully attractive face!❞
❝You think I'm attractive?❞
❝Fuck no!❞
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Dangerous, wild and rebellious.
Calm, cool and collected.
Darya just wan...
this was written in a go without revision, so please point out any mistakes you find.
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My gaze drifts to the damp towel hanging limply on a nearby hanger, a reminder of my hasty shower earlier but I shake my head - trying to shake away the few droplets of water - focusing on scrolling through my emails.
I can't believe that I've gotten to the age where scrolling through my social media, especially emails has become an important part of my day.
With the laptop balanced on my knees, the soft glow illuminates my face as I ran my fingers through the keys, scrolling through message after message. The soft hum of the device filled the room, punctuated only by the occasional click of my laptop.
I check my cellphone, waiting patiently for Darya's goodnight text. Is she busy? I send her a goodnight text and was about to shut my devices off before a ping of notification comes in.
I frown, noticing it was an email with a video attached from an anonymous source.
I hesitate before clicking play, and my blood runs cold when I see the message attached to it.
'Your girl isn't who she says she is.'
I try to clear my head, I try to ease my nerves but the lingering feeling of dread sits in my stomach.
The video starts with a scene that has me sitting up straighter. This is the something I'm most definitely not ready to see, something I'm afraid of. Like a terrible car accident, I don't want to see the grisly evidence of someone smeared across the asphalt, but I can't look away. This accident involves someone I care about. Someone I love.
It's a recorded haunting moment that Darya faced and I can't do anything but watch and it kills me.
But I need to know about it. Need to know about something. Whenever she stays over, she sometimes still have nightmares. I'm never going to break through Darya mental hangups without having some basis of understanding.
I'm frozen, my eyes glued to the screen as the grainy footage plays. My heart sinks with every passing second. I watch in horror as Darya fights for her life, her face twisted in fear and determination. My fists clench, nails digging into my palms, blood dripping down. I'm helpless, unable to intervene since it already happened. That new information causes a low growl rumbling in my throat as I witness Darya's futile struggles, how she tried, and trust me she tried, to save her life.
The sound of Darya's labored breathing, the muffled cries, the disgusting things the assaulter spat out and the sickening thuds echo in my mind, fueling my anguish and I feel tears of frustration and anger prick at the corners of my eyes, but I don't look away.
This happened years ago but my girl has been so strong, so strong for what she's gone through.
My face contorts in pain, dread, and helplessness. I feel like I'm reliving the worst nightmare of my life, but instead I'm watching it happen to the love of my life. My body trembles with suppressed fury, my jaw locked in a vicious snarl. The screen blurs as my eyes well up with unshed tears, my breath catching in my throat.
