Forbidden

Chapter 13

The following morning I woke, and the only thing I could feel was pain. It was everywhere. Invading all my senses. My legs hurt from the massive run I did yesterday. My arms from endlessly punching him. My whole back from slamming into a wall. And worst of all my head, from I'm guessing getting punched repeatedly. I didn't want to move. Every muscle ached and burned. And I demanded my body to get up and walk it off, but that wasn't happening, it was like my body was refusing my orders and doing its own thing. And so I lay there. In bed. Doing nothing. For 3 hours straight. Thats when Hillary came into the room.

"April?" She said poking her head in the room. Ok tongue, you better work at least.

"Yeh?" I mumbled, barely opening my eyes. Well, this is embarrassing.

"Are you ok?" She asked. Just lie, you don't want her thinking lowly of you.

"Yeh. Why? Whats wrong?" I asked.

"No, nothing. Just the nurse that checked you over yesterday said you'd be very sore today, and that I need to keep an eye on you, and if you start having trouble remembering things I must warn her immediately," she said. Wow.

"Well, yes I am quite sore, but I'm fine. I need to get used to this apparently. I'll be feeling at the end of every assignment," I laughed.

"But this is your first one. Its ok to grieve over it. And feel pain. You're young," she smiled walking over to the bed and sitting down next to me.

"I'll get over it. I'm fine," I said.

"Ok, but if you need anything. Just call. Would you like us to bring you your breakfast? You didn't have dinner. You must be hungry," she stated.

"I'm fine thank you, not really hungry." I shrugged. With that, she smiled and walked out the room.

My mind started wondering to places I didn't want it to. Willow. Milly. Even Jed. Why was I thinking about him. My mind easily made his face appear. Broad cheekbones. Beautiful light blue eyes, with glorious thick eyelashes. Scruffy brunette hair that would've looked terrible on anyone else, but he managed to pull it off. Then the rest of his body came. Tanned complexion. Well proportioned muscles. Broad shoulders. Photoshopped to perfection. Why was my mind doing this to me? What did any of this have to do with Jed? Yes, he's a good looking man. Who's kind, considerate and funny. Who made me smile, who bandaged my hands delicately. Who's smile could light up New York. Who helped me calm down when I was raging at the gym. Who was there for me. Who talked to me through the movies. Oh no, that was why. All those things. I liked Jed. I liked, liked Jed. I liked the man I left.

I laughed to myself dryly as a tear escaped my eye. Then another came, and another. They kept coming. Tears streaming out of my eyes. I mourned to see Milly, and Willow and Jed. I mourned to go back in time to before I left when everything was perfect. To that night at the movies where everything was normal. When I wasn't a killer. And I cried for Wayne. The man I killed. What would all my friends think of me know. They'd think of me as a killer. A cold blooded killer. And so I cried. I cried until there were no tears left in my body, and I left feeling dehydrated.

I stood on trembling legs, and limped my way over to the bathroom, gripping the sink to keep myself standing. I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. Half my face swollen from the punches Wayne landed on me. My usually tanned skin was pale white, and my eyes looked too wide to be on my face. My hair was a mess. And when I looked at my hip, a tiny bit of blood was on my white pyjamas, the cut must've reopened during the night and bled through the bandage. How? I doubt I moved during the night. It would've been too painful. Seeing myself now hurt even more. I used to be pretty. I could even admit that. I had a well sized chest and butt. I wasn't fat. I had killer abs, long black hair that only stopped just above my butt. A big confident smile, and warm brown eyes. But as I looked at myself now. I didn't see confidence. I saw a sad, defeated girl. Yes I won the fight, but I killed someone by winning. I'd lost my innocence. I looked scared. And I was. I couldn't bare looking in the mirror any longer, so I stripped off my pyjamas, and stepped into the steaming shower and just stood there. Letting the water wash away my worries. When I finally stepped out the shower my legs were numb from standing up for so long. So I wrapped a towel around me and walked out of the bathroom and into the walk in robe. I scavenged around looking for tracky pants, and finally found my maroon pair. I also grabbed a black singlet for a shirt, and my black hoodie on top. And best of all, I saw some purple fluffy sleeping socks, so I slipped them on too.