Ravil remembered the phone call in vivid detail. He remembered jumping into his car and speeding to the hospital, nearly running multiple vehicles off of the road in the process. He remembered tearing off his glasses and slamming them on the nearest flat surface when he finally got to the hospital and the doctors uttered those fateful words.
"She didn't make it."
He remembered sobbing over his mother's still slightly warm body, wishing he could revive her by squeezing her hands tightly enough.
He remembered sleeping all day afterwards. He remembered crying when he thought about it too much.
Now, Ravil sat at the funeral home with the father he hadn't seen in years, listening to the manager ramble. With painfully sharp perception, Ravil felt the manager's voice growing louder, and louder, and louder, and more vexing with each word. He didn't want to hear the manager drone on and on about how he was "sorry for her death" and how this was going to be a "perfect funeral to honor her memory."
Ravil couldn't take it anymore.
So he stood up and opened his own mouth. Screamed at the manager, his green eyes alight with rage and his face going red.
He stormed outside, got in his car. Drove until he accidentally swerved off the road and into the lake.
YOU ARE READING
Otkroveniye Complex // Book 1 of the Takaryev Series
Mystery / ThrillerRavil Galkin doesn't have much of a past, but as far as he's concerned, he's a completely normal person. Sure, he's a college drop out and basically a shut-in, but that's alright with him. But there's a whole different depth to the situation. An oc...
