Love Sucks

Love Sucks - 18

Guys!

I'm so sorry. This isn't really such an appealing chapter, I know. It's because I'm ill, and tired and whatnot.

I promise that the next chapter will be much better.

Plus, my walking inspiration is on holiday :(

BUUUUUUUUT...

The next chapter will still top this one by gazillions... I hope =D

Chapter eighteen;

Everything hurt. I felt numb inside, but my heartbeat was racing in my ears. I could feel it pounding against my rib cage, and I could feel the icy drops of sweat coat the back of my neck. A freezing cold breeze brushed over my hand, tingling all up my arm like an electric shock. But I could hear nothing but my heartbeat.

Was this death? Was this the "Limbo" people spoke of?

I couldn't be dead. If I were dead, nothing would hurt. But everything hurt, as if reminding me this was real. As if reminding me that I really had sacrificed my life for a bunch of leeches.

It hit me like a fire ball to my chest. I shot up in the bed that I'd been lying in, everything twitching and aching to move as if I'd been lying completely still for hours. My whole body felt stiff, and my neck burned with whiplash. My head was still sore, and the room around me was spinning. Gasping for breath, I blinked and looked around. A large oak-wood desk was sat in front of a big window that looked out at the rainy day. The bed I lay it had four posters with black drapes carelessly, yet neatly, wrapping around the posters. The sheets themselves were also black and a velvety fabric; not warm, bur comfortable enough for my liking. There was a large wooden wardrobe opposite the king sized bed I lay in, closed with a key in the keyhole. On the other side of the desk sat a grand piano, so gorgeous, just begging to be played. A guitar sat pressed against the wall next to the wardrobe - and yes, it was black too. But it was beautiful, nonetheless.

I slid out of the bed, my bare feet touching the wooden floor. I stretched, my bones clicking, before glancing around once more. The door to the bedroom was shut, and so I was safely alone. It wasn't a place I recognised, but I knew I was with someone from Alex's clan. I could distinctively remember opening my eyes for a little while to see the guy who'd been growling carrying me, muttering that we'd be home and safe soon. Maybe I was silly to trust him.

Either way, I'd made some bad choices in my life. This could just be another.

I wandered over to the large oak wood desk, glancing down at some pages that had been scattered atop it. A black book sat on top of all of the papers, so I lifted the book into my hands, weighing it as I scanned the papers looking for a name as to who's room I was in. Sketches etched beautifully, delicately into the thick parchment were all I saw, with no name signed. But whoever did them was truly talented. They were drawings of scenery. However, eager as I was, I lay the black book aside and lifted each one of the papers, looking at all of the drawings before I came across one. One so... so detailed... so breath-taking.

A girl was sketched into the middle of the paper, her hair was long and wavy, curling down to just under her breastbone. Her figure was slim, a body to die for, and a midnight blue dress hugged every one of her beautiful curves. Her face was pretty and young, her eyes detailed more than the rest of the girl's body. Her mouth was tugged up into a small smile, and her eyes bored into mine. Around the edges of the parchment sat other sketches of eyes, as if they had been trying their hardest to get them just right. As if the eyes were the utmost important.

I smiled, before putting all the papers back and opening the book. Inside were instalments like a diary, somebody's thoughts and feeling poured onto pages. Other drawings and whatnot sat carelessly as doodles on some of the back pages, and etched into the front of the book, on the cover was; 'Benjamin Cromwell'. My heart skipped a beat, and I carefully put the book down, worried I'd break it somehow.