Sinful Pleasure

28

T W E N T Y - E I G H T

E L L A N O R E

"Are you okay?" Celia questioned with concern.

We were currently tending to dinner and despite my attempts to at least pretend that I was okay, I was a mess. My conscious was weighing guilty and my heart had a constant dull ache. It's been two weeks since the incident with Mischa and Beau's escape. Vincent was livid when he awoke to find that he was no longer held captive in his home. He was confused as to how someone managed to even do so without alarming him. But once everyone noticed the disappearance of Mischa they started to murmur their own assumptions and theories. In their minds she was the culprit. But in reality she was dead and buried along with my regrets and worthless apologies.

"I'm fine." I mumbled.

"Are you sure? You don't look so good." Wiping her hands on her apron, Celia gently held the back of her hand against my forehead. "You're burning up. Why didn't you say that you were running a fever." Frowning she shook her head.

"I said that I'm fine. Let's not make a fuss about it." I wasn't nauseous and I didn't exactly feel sick in the sense that it had to do with my well-being. "Let's just work on finishing up dinner."

"I can finish up. Why don't you just go lie down for a bit." Celia suggested.

Biting my lip, I turned down the urge to disagree with what she said. I didn't want to give myself the option to be consumed with my thoughts and my guilty self conscious. It's been driving me insane these past few days. The only thing I could think of to keep them at bay was to busy myself with work and chores around the house. Every room was clean, every mantle was dusted and spotless, every floor has been swept and mopped. There was nothing else here for me too do.

"Wake me before dinner." Dropping the knife that I was using to cut up the vegetables, I washed my hands before draping my apron on the hook and making my way towards my room.

The halls were quiet, and the house was nearly empty besides being occupied by me, Celia, and a mourning Roland. He was so distraught about Mischa as if losing Alice wasn't enough. He's been keeping to himself these days, staying out late to tend to the yard. As far as Vincent knew, Roland was just fulfilling his duties as he should. But I could hear his cries when he's alone. He'd plead for Alice to come back too him, and he'd question why Mischa made such a foolish decision.

On top of my guilty conscious, Roland made it unbearable for me to stay here as well. He was so depressed I could hardly bear to look at him or comfort him. Not knowing what I know.

I watched Alicia get slaughtered and I killed Mischa with my own bear hands. I've labeled Cane as a monster for taking my friends life, but I was no different then him. Despite my built up anger and frustration, Mischa didn't deserve to die. I was selfish and I tried to cover up my own ass. I would never forgive myself for that. And I knew that without a doubt if Celia and Roland found out about what I've done, they would never forgive me as well.

Once I made it to my room, I slipped off my shoes and sat on the edge of my bed. My head was pounding with the upcoming of a headache as the constant nagging voice started to stir again. I could never decipher what it was saying but I could feel their pain, their longing for something... or someone. It always seemed to get louder whenever I was alone. That on top of the guilt that I've seemed to carry upon my shoulders over day was too much to handle.

Sighing, I laid back and tried to close my eyes. Sleep was something that I seemed to be lacking these days. I was stuck thinking about any and everything else, my mind was running on overdrive. But after busting ass to clean this house and completing everything there was that needed to be done, I found myself drifting off before I knew it.