𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 & 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 | 𝐃.𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 [𝟏]

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧―𝐒𝟒 𝐄𝟏𝟔: 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐏𝐢𝐧

❝︎You never thought of anyone else; you just saw your pain...❞︎

𝟸𝟺𝚃𝙷 𝙵𝙴𝙱𝚁𝚄𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟿―𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚈𝙴𝙽𝙽𝙴, 𝚆𝚈𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶

I LOOKED DOWN AT MY PHONE, scrolling through the lists of contacts I had saved on my phone. I paused when my eyes found Pamela's. I was sitting in the passenger's seat for the first time since I had reunited with Cherry and offered the wheel to my sister. A tear was rolling down my face, and I had been wearing the same dress I had on for Pamela's funeral. I had been too upset to change or to do much for the matter. Say All I Need by One Republic played faintly on the radio as my eyes drifted to her contact picture that I opened up on my phone. I could feel my heart crack, knowing that I was a large part responsible for her death, and I knew she was only one of many victims in the fight we were facing ahead.

"Ruby and Kai will meet us outside Cheyenne. They've been tracking some leads." Lily said, breaking the silence. She took her eyes off of the road and turned to look at me for a second, hoping to see a reaction. I rolled my eyes at the mention of the demons but didn't say anything. "I know they're not exactly on your Christmas list, but if they can help us get to Lilith—" Lily added as she turned back to the road, hoping it would be enough to convince me to at least be civil with them. But it didn't. I knew the last thing we should be doing is trusting demons. They were keeping secrets from us―that much I knew. However, I was not going to be the controlling older sister she thought I was, even when I knew sometimes I was. She's twenty-three years old; she could make her decisions whether I approved of them or not.

"Work with them, don't. I don't really give a fuck." I muttered unenthusiastically.

"What's your problem?" She asked, taking turns glancing between the road and me.

I sighed, "Pamela didn't want anything to do with this, and we dragged her back into it." I answered, looking down and fidgeting with my crimson-painted nails on the edge of the black skirt of my dress. I was upset. I was disappointed. I was grieving. The thought of knowing that Pamela would still be alive if it weren't for us was enough to keep me up at night. I felt guilty, knowing that her death was on us and we had to carry the blame on our shoulders. I knew it was our fault and as much as I wish I could take it back―as much as I wish we had never called Pamela for help with the seal―the only thing that was left to do was to ensure she didn't die in vain. And preventing the apocalypse was something that had become my priority if it hadn't been before. Pamela died for this, and I was not about to let her down a second time.