Book 2 of the "Unspoken Words" series.
A completely unexpected, but tragic event three months prior has left the town of EverGreen in horrifying shock. As Maya Greene's hollow laughs echo in the school hallways, her tattered diary filled with bleed...
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"We are all made of stardust."
MAYA
One week later, it was 2 A.M, but I couldn't sleep. I hated being alone. Loneliness was an enemy, but the silence was a friend. I want it to be the opposite. With death came peace and I wanted peace, but I don't think I deserved it. I deserved pain. Maybe that's why the universe didn't want me dead.
Death sent me to hell, but it couldn't keep me there. The thought was comical. Even hell didn't want me.
This morning, when I went to the bathroom, I looked myself in the mirror and almost screamed. I looked so different. My wavy chocolate brown hair wasn't curled in a stylish way like it always used to be, but was resting naturally on my chest. My face wasn't covered with heavy makeup nor were my lips covered with a thick layer of the red lipstick I always wore. My sapphire blue eyes had specks of sorrow and loneliness in them. It was scary. An emotion I was so good at hiding, was now on full display.
Dressed in a hospital gown I was so sick of wearing, I sat leaned back in the bed with my hands folded in my lap and gazed at the starry sky outside the window. After spending so much time here, I'd gotten used this room's hollow ambiance, the way the sunlight streamed inside from the window during the day and the way the moon shone brightly upon the night sky, making sure to cast some light into this room as well. The moon was a friend to all lonely people who were awake at A.M, either too hurt or too happy to be able to sleep.
Doctors and nurses occasionally slipped in and out of my room daily to check on me. Those smiles they offered, hoping to give me some reassurance that I was going to be okay, was something I truly hated. The truth was that they sympathized me. I didn't want sympathy. What I wanted was to feel more numb and emptier than I already felt, so I would stop fighting the urge to break down every time I thought about mom.
Mom was dead. The fact still hadn't settled properly in my mind. I guess I was too afraid to accept the harsh truth. And perhaps it was also the reason to why I couldn't sleep at night. There was this little voice in the back of my head, whispering the same words over and over again to me. She's never coming back. She's never coming back. She's never coming-
"What the...?" A mini heart attack caused by a deep, smooth voice made me jump as I rapidly glanced sideways to the door. It was open and a tall guy with a broad frame stood on the doorstep with a platter of cupcakes in his hands. He was dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie in contrast to his creamy white skinned face with a strong jaw. Last but not least, a blue jean jacket. His gray eyes slightly glimmered in the dim light as they were about to fall out of his extremely shocked face.
Cayden Bloom.
For at least thirty seconds, he didn't say a single word nor did he move or slightly twitch a single muscle. His eyes, which were blown wide, refused to close even for a mere second. As for me, I sat still in my bed, my mind and face pretty much blank. One thing bothered me though. The addicting scent of those freakin' cupcakes.
