Lost in the Ex Dons Dark

☽sin04☾

Ⓒhapter 4 Ⓒuts

"What will people say' This sentence has killed more dreams than anything else in the world"
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      "Sad" sounds so childish, like something flimsy, something she should be able to cast off with a happy reflection or the smile of a friend. But "sad" is nothing of the sort. It sits inside like the germ seed of depression, just waiting for the right conditions to grow, to send out roots to choke the hope out of her heart. It is the trough in which she struggled to return to the peak, always afraid that this time the rungs will be too slippery, too far apart or simply not there at all.

when Cattleya was only 10 she watched malicious men run down her home and destroy all they're memories and happiness they're indicative to find her father went down hill and they settled for her whore of a mother raping her over and over again killing her with how aggressively they pounded and choked her she couldn't stop the angry tears from bursting forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. the muscles of her chin trembled like a small child, There was static in her head once more,

the side effect of this constant fear, constant stress She lived with. Her own sounds tormented her, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. It takes something out of her that she didn't know She had left to give. That's the way it is when people are hard. It's like 'theft of the spirit', an injury no other person can see.

coming back to her senses she watched the mans futile atempts to wringe himself out of the restraints,it truly did look pitiful, just like her mother

"battre est inutilisable s'il vous plaît me tuer rapidement je sais rien que je viens d'être envoyé avec cette radio afin que je puisse obtenir des informations s'il vous plaît juste me tuer".    (beating me up is useless please kill me quick I know nothing I was just sent with this radio so I could get information please just kill me)

he cried looking her straight in the eyes she couldn't handle the emotions that coerced through her veins she wished she could have done the same for her mother.

'but this one for you' she thought as she pulled the M9 out and shot him in between his brows

"Radio" she whispered Hawthorne's eyes wide with anger seemed to slowly subside when he finally found the radio on his body with a letter attached he turned around smiling softly to me " Good job Kiddo" he praised sending her a thumbs up as Michealangelo glared daggers to her
Her expression never changing

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Loneliness ate her alive, swallowing every ounce of hope she had left to spare. It feasted upon any happiness she had left, leaving behind an empty carcass; full of despair and memories she couldn't seem to hold onto anymore. It took her heart into its claws, squeezing out every bit of life she had circulating throughout her opaque veins.

It craves for her to suffer a life without any warm hands embracing her, or any shoulders to go cry upon. abandoning her, once more, for this beast is something she is afraid off because she has no power over it. she thought as she starred aimlessly at the  picture of her family framed in her bedroom  they were all stacked on top of one another starting with her father and mother then Vince and Victor and on top was her big blue eyes, long blond hair and a smile that spoke of true happiness something that died that day with the rest of her family.

it was wrong and she didn't wish to do it but she had no one else to talk to but the four walls before her. It had become the easy way out of hard times especially since she didn't allow her self to get help or drink medications to stop the depression that had sprouted so long ago and continued to grow.

She stood up making her way over to the picture frame she picked it up and found what she was looking for, a razor that was attached to the beautiful portrait of her family

and with silence, she brought the razor close to her chest

"sono cosi dispiaciuto" (I'm so sorry) she muttered bringing the sleeves up on her uniform, exposing her severely scarred skin.

" scusa mamma" (sorry) she whispered drowning out her torment as she dragged the razor along the recently healed wounds watching the blood drip on the floor

"scusa papa" (sorry) another drag that tugged at the rough skin from all the old cuts causing a mass of warm red liquid to flood the floors

"scusa Vince e Victor" (sorry)she whimpered out dragging the knife down the middle of the freshly opened wounds a strange sense of Euphoria coerced through her veins the burning pain turned to a burning pleasure.

all emotion seized and her body felt bare she could see the men fucking her mother and her purse her lips and begin to enjoy herself,

" sei un cazzo di niente" (you fucking narcs) she screamed absolutely infuriated and angry tears pouring out of her eyes she turned and slammed her fists into the first thing in her blurred vision

The air is suddenly rent by the sound of breaking glass. Other than a gunshot there is nothing that gets her attention sooner or heart accelerating faster. With shaky hands she looks down at the mess she made the beautiful mirror Hawthorne gifted her lay scattered on the floor with the blood of her betrayal

with reason, she hated herself so badly even hidden from the world and prying eyes she was making constant mistakes that ruined everything around her

she dropped to her knees feeling the shards of glass dig deep and cut her skin, she picked at the small shards of glass lodged into her skin.

sadness seeped out of her pores like a natural scent she couldn't believe she would act so violently was this her futile attempt at telling her mother how she really felt was it wrong that she carried more anger then compassion for the late women.

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