killer, gbd (EDITING)

34

CURRENTLY EDITING WITH PLOT MODIFICATIONS

I wake when the sky is still dark. A layer of sweat covers my entire body, but a chill runs down my spine. I cross my arms, beginning to run my palms back and forth from my shoulders to my elbows, but a sharp pain in my hand stops me.

"Fuck..." I mutter, looking down at my torn up palm. Blood has run down through my finger tips, but i can tell that the wound is not as bad as the blood makes it seem.

I stand with help from the railing and immediately feel light headed. The warm alcohol that sits in my otherwise empty stomach makes me feel uneasy. I lean on the railing and take a few deep breathes with my eyes closed. My stomach clenches and I squeeze my eyes shit tighter in response.

The alcohol then comes up my throat and I vomit over the side of the railing. From the blurs of last night I can vaguely tell this isn't the first time I've done this.

I stare down at the endless dunes of sand and wonder what it would feel like to jump from this height. The freedom the fall gives must be purely beautiful, yet terrifying. What a way to end a life such as mine, a voluntary fall from a bedroom balcony. Not a rouge bullet, not a blade, not torture. For a reason unknown to me, tears build in my eyes.

My breathing becomes unsteady as a number of emotions hit me all at once. It's pain, anger, confusion, sadness; it's too much.

My entire life I've been nothing but a weapon, a killing machine, the daughter of an outstanding agent. Until I met Grayson, I then became something completely different.

Finally someone had looked at me like I was important... like I was worth the risks and the fights. I was loved. But with all of the commotion, how could someone maintain a healthy relationship. It's nearly impossible...

I shake my head and push away the words that I wish I could just scream out. To think of how much I miss him only makes the hurt worse. But to say it out loud, that would kill me.

I take a deep breath and back away from the railing. My hands grasp for the doorway, then my right palm hits my forehead. Spatially I begin to feel lost, it feels like I have become completely disconnected in every sense.

In response to my panic, I crawl to my bed and wrap myself in the sheets. My lip quivers and my tearing eyes squeeze shut. Tense muscles spasms happen just below my goosebump covered skin.

As my sober mind is flooded with painful thoughts and unsettling emotions, I allow myself to truly cry. I do not hold back, I shake vigorously because of how overwhelming the pain is.

I let myself think of him, every detail, every little thing that I fell so deeply in love with. The happiest memories that have become the reason for my tears.

Only after what feels like hours of thinking of him and us, my whole world goes blank. I finally feel nothing, numbness coats me like the sheets that surround me. I wish for nothing, the disconnection to my emotions allows me to live without a nagging discomfort in my heart.

The wall that I stare into holds no answers for me but I stare into it like it does anyways.

I sniffle and rub my nose gently on the back of my hand. Finally breaking my stare, my dry lips part and my body slowly rises so that I am now looking out onto the balcony.

What do I want? Right now in this very moment what do I yearn for? I ask myself feeling that my life could go down serval paths depending on some of the decisions I make in the next few minutes.

I want to leave this building. I never want be in this room or see any room like it ever again because of how painful the ties to it are. I want to just let go...