Fear | K.th [Editing]

Hell Has no Fury Like a Mad Man Scorned [82°]

She hears the crunching of the gravel from large boots before she sees the uniformed legs of the culprit. Sat on the aged stairs of the stone porch, purple hands over her mouth as she stares ahead. Eyes sunken, distant. The flashing lights don't draw her mind away from her thoughts nor the people hauling two bodies into the back of an emergency vehicle.

The broad fire fighter in front of her calls out to the woman, "Can you tell me what happened here?" She almost doesn't register his voice, the Italian sounding foreign to the native Korean.

Swallowing down the dryness in her throat, she peers up at the young man. She doesn't know what happened, can't recollect the events that occurred what feels like just a few moments ago. Or why she was even sitting on the ground as it lightly began to snow. Why she feels like she should be in distress, but only feels like a 3rd person viewer.

The firefighter calls out to the woman upon the lack of response, asking for her name instead. She doesn't say anything,  making eye contact with him. "M'am...?"

"It's too quiet."

The silence wakes her.

She sits up, mind ahead in a daze. Sequined legs enveloped by the freshly washed covers. Chest heaving shallowly, she cradles her knees as she cascades her eyes out onto the balcony. The moon casts a blue sheen over the dark room, a stumbling buzz. Her eyes land on the clock. It was five in the morning when she awoke. It was too quiet than normal. No sounds of wind despite the weather changing, no geese clucking by the pond, and she doesn't hear the trickling of water in the broken faucet that keeps her up some nights.

Her shaky hands run over her puffy face and through her black hair before lowering to caress herself. The tatted female turns her gaze to the body laying next to her. Emilio's fast asleep on his side, unaware of his lovers troubles. His chest bare, breathing coming out steady and calm. He's as handsome as ever, even in his most private moment, the woman not being able to keep her eyes off the man she relinquished her heart to.

The mistress decides to get up a minute later, bedsheets shifting as she swiftly moves. Emilio subconsciously hears her moving around their room, groaning lightly as he reaches for where she should be. The female watches from a few feet away, searching through her dresser to find something to cover herself up with.

She drags a short white dress over her head and through the short sleeves, the fabric nestling above her knees. Then a grey hoodie, sheathing the tattoos woven into her arms. She takes a glance at the mirror, wiping her face to rid of any signs of slumber. On her way out the room her hand latches onto a pack of cigarettes laying on the nightstand and a dark blue blanket over the arm rest of a chair beside the bed.

The mistress ambles through the hushed corridors of her home, knocking the pack of cigs against her palm. Passing the copious amounts of red and yellow carnations bathing in the moons luminescence shone through the frosted windows, fingertips thrumming over the dewy petals. She looks out the window to see the ocean of waves crashing against the shore near her home, smelling the fantom odor of the sea.

Everyone was asleep except for her, her mind restless. It is to be expected, she's been having nights like this ever since she's escaped. All she can do is go around her home making sure everything is where it should be until she feels at ease. She lowers her gaze onto their black cat as he swerves between her legs, glowing green eyes admiring the way she moves. She places the white stick in between her teeth, lifting the lighter up to her mouth. Her bare feet carry her outside to the front of their home, slipping out undetected by the rest of her somnolent family.

Her eyes fall onto the fields of dull grass surrounding the home, leisurely blowing out smoke as she takes in the quiescent ambience. To the left of her, a long winding path down the cliff leads to the nearest local town, a forty-five minute drive to and from. She places her arms against the stone railing and hangs her head as she ponders in the moment she has for herself. Her right hand eases the tension in her neck before pulling the hoodie over the black strands.