𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Chapter Forty-Five

🕊   the end is nigh   🕊

Alessia spent her summer break alone. Her only company was her father, who entertained himself more than he did her. Waking up with a start, she realised that she had been hailed to the floor, a regular occurrence throughout the heat and rest of the summer holidays.

She rose to her feet, walking over to her mirror to see how bad the damage was. And then she broke down into tears, wrapping her arms around her body—it was her routine healing process.

It was then that I took control, wiping her tears away and refraining from yelling in annoyance like I had done for the past six days now. I walked into her bathroom, nursed her cuts and scratches, before concluding that Alessia wouldn't need an ice-bag.

Leaning over her sink, I soon became bored. As Olivia Clark, my summer had been full of days out, nights out, and happiness and laughter. My family had gone on a week-long holiday before we were joined by Dylan's family for another week. It wasn't the first time that Dylan and I had been away with each other, but it was certainly the longest and coolest.

Becoming restless, I groaned, checking for signs of her father before leaving the room. I turned to the right, which led to a door that seemed untouched. I frowned, quickly becoming intrigued.

I slowly moved down the hall, eyes on the cream coloured door. When I reached it, I turned the brass door handle carefully, pushing the door open with just as much discretion. Once the door was open, I was greeted by a deep crimson carpet, pale pink walls, the same deep red on the bed, and beautifully varnished furniture. I couldn't understand it. I could tell that Alessia, nor her dad, visited this room often, but it still seemed like a shrine of sorts. Perhaps it was better likened to a sepulchre.

I wandered in curiously, spotting a picture frame on the side of the vanity. I picked up the picture, seeing three faces in the frame. One was Alessia's father, though as if from another life—another time. He was younger, a gleam in his eyes that was dead and gone now. He almost looked unrecognisable. In the middle, was a young girl, who looked vaguely like Alessia, and I could only assume that it was her as a young girl. Again, the joy in her eyes and face was unrecognisable, and I felt as though they'd both been through a time machine. Then there was the third face. I didn't recognise the woman, but as I stared at her, emotions stirred up within Alessia. It was her mum.