Where She Went

16. Three Of Diamonds

Nov's scars - picture on side(:

Probably not a very good chapter but look forward to the next one(; *wink wink*

I'm actually surprised I was able to finish this chapter so fast, but I was anxious to start the next one I was able to finish this! I'll be putting the next one up tomorrow, so that's your weekend chapters and probably the last chapters until the next weekend cuz I'm so busy. But who knows? I might post earlier, it just depends on my week. (:

xoxo Auna<3

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My heart seemed to stop in place, and it reminded me of the heart monitors in the hospital. A loud endless sound to signal the dying, the ones who have lost their heartbeat.

I wish that had happened to me, so I didn't have to face November's news. But I couldn't.

I refused to die, not yet at least.

"No." Was the first thing that came out of my mouth. And then following soon after many more.

"No, no, no... No November you are wrong." I get louder as I start to stand, feeling lightheaded. I loved a person who was related to a person I hated so much I wish I could drag him down to hell myself.

"You are lying." I state, refusing his statement.

"No, Hazel. I'm not lying." November says steadily as he tries to calm me down. "I'm not--"

"He hurt you!" I scream, digging my nails into my hair as hard as I could until it felt like knives in my head. "He wouldn't do that to you. He couldn't be that cruel..." Tears are now streaming down my face as I slowly lose my voice.

November stares at the ground with his jaw set tightly, and I suddenly realize something.

"You didn't know before?"

"I just found out." November whispered. "When I was in the basement."

"Oh, November." I rush to his side once again and take him in my arms as his head falls in his lap and his shoulders quake with sadness.

"Why?" November whispers. "Why do I have to be related to him? Why does he have to be my father?"

"Shh," I rub gentle circles into his back to try to soothe him. "It's okay. You can make it through the pain. You are strong enough."

"No I'm not." November argues, his back becoming rigid. "I'm fucking pathetic. Weak. Useless."

I flinch as he spits out the words as if in disgust with his own self.

"You are strong enough." I tell him. "How else did you survive seven years of complete torture?"

"By wasting away." November whispered. "There was no point to my life. Sometimes I wished I had been able to get ahold of pills or glass-- anything that could rid me of my suffering. Take away the life I obviously didn't deserve while I rotted in that fucking cellar."

To prove a point, he held out his arms-- which were lined from his wrists all the way under his sleeves with small scars.

"Every time he engraved me... Did something to me..." November murmurs. "I felt like I had lost a little part of me, and I was slowly but positively going insane."

I placed my fingertips on his scars and felt the tiny bumps over his skin. Then, I placed his hand on mine, under my left wrist. I had close to none compared to his, but I wanted to physically show him he wasn't alone.

"Do you feel them?" I ask. "They're like yours, only a lot less." Next, I took his hand it led it to my chest, over my heart.

"Do you feel this?" I murmur, staring into his cold blue eyes that drifted to his hand.