Veridis Quo

Chapter 31 - A Thick Reality Check

The night was dreamless. Not a single thought escaped the subconscious plane, the realm shackled by my own machinations.

It wasn't that I wasn't imaginative; I just wasn't feeling like it. That applied to a lot of things.

When I awoke to the alarm clock, five minutes slipped by before I swiped it into silence, flopping back onto the mattress like a dead fish. I had an hour to get my shit together, everything from the bathroom to the cafeteria could be confidently fit into the frame with room to spare for a little pine tree.

I didn't do any of it, though.

I didn't throw off the covers, greeting the dawn of a new day with a jolly smile. I didn't enjoy a warm shower that gradually cooled to a step below lukewarm. I didn't maintain my hygiene as one always should to ensure a healthy oral cavity into the golden years of their life. I didn't get dressed and hopped across an invisible hopscotch walk stretching all the way to breakfast.

I didn't attend the first meal of the day alongside her.

My best friend.

My only ally.

My...

I concealed my face, curling into a ball as the air unit continued cooling the room. Since all windows were shut, the lowest speed sufficed. It was also very quiet, but that worked against me.

In spite of everything in my safe space, I began resenting the silence.

Crickets chirping, the odd flaps of a misled moth, a rising full moon; that was the scenery that led me back to my room.

A gorgeous summer night, beyond ruined.

Forcing the rising bile back down, I bore my teeth, grinding them into dust.

I didn't keep track of the clock since I awakened nor was I looking forward to the discovery. I had lost sense of the passage, trapped in a closed circuit of my own volition.

Apathy, for my body and mind cooped against me, refusing to start the day.

Repulsion, for I was behaving like a Biskort mod. The sheets stank like a skank; bodily oils, dead skin cells, tiny hairs, itching.

Disgust, for the above and below.

I remembered everything.

Every. Single. Detail.

From the hits, to the manner I was restrained and unable to fight back. The possessive hands, racking claws, and curious snout. From the weight on my back, to the belly. And the kiss.

Grabbing my arms, I dug into them, red streaks marked by dull nails. Had they been longer, I would've...

What would that accomplish besides bringing harm?

Drawing a cold breath, I shuddered at the clearest part of the assault.

The invasion of the slimy alien, a battering arm breaking the castle's gate, a...

What was I even thinking? Why was I giving it so much attention?

Well, I knew the answer.

It...

I licked my dry lips, tearing into a pursed, old frown.

It felt good.

That was a lie.

I was fucking molested! A stranger did shit to me without my consent and got away scot-free! I was livid. I wanted to get a gun and dump a whole magazine into their skull.