Into Aurora

Chapter 7

The house was quiet.

Well, the house was always quiet. But this was a different kind. An empty quiet, the silence after abandonment.

The rich smell of chocolate wafted up and through the room, so strong i could almost taste what it would've been like. The dining room was the same.

Except for a body.

Peter's hair was brown, dropping back as his head tilted up. He had one hand flat on the table, palm up.

The other was around his throat. Fresh red lines moving across his neck.

And his eyes. Open. Not blinking, not looking, just open. They used to be able to see things, transfer pictures, frame by frame, saved as memories.

I had planned this. What I didn't realize was for this consuming tsunami of guilt to shatter down all the defenses I had built up, the dam of fortitude that locked any emotion away. My chest tightened and my stomach churned, yearning to cleanse my body of such an unspeakable sin. My pulse radiated over the entire room and my vision blurred.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Breathe.

But how could I steal the air that was his, the air that he so willingly gave me.

This silence was deafening.