BEFORE YOU READ: This chapter will have a short mention of suicide.
UNDERTOW three
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ཻུ۪۪༄☆‧₊. °
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The urge to throw up her previous meal stayed with Wren while Beretta and her stylists attempted to make her seem as if she hasn't lost her damn mind.
After endless hours of sobbing to herself in the corner of her unnecessarily large living room, she lost all will and ability to speak. She wailed and screamed til her voice was red and raw, tears staining her shock struck face.
Wren remained in the same position until the next morning when her lively group of capitol cronies entered her home by force after minutes of knocking on a door to which there was no answer, the sound of the rapping against the wood reached upon deaf ears, an echo ringing across the house.
They found her frozen in her place in the corner, the remnants of tears stained across her skin all the way down to her chest which then disappeared down her shirt.
"Please, open your eyes." Beretta begged her. Wren didn't make a single movement or show any sign of abiding to Beretta's request. "Wren." She pleaded again.
If anything, Wren's posture became even more rigid than before if possible. Maybe if she didn't open her eyes, then it won't be real. Maybe she can stay here forever. Maybe she can wake up in her overly sized bed kicking and screaming only to realize it was just a frightening nightmare.
They pleaded and begged with her for almost an hour before Wren finally opened her eyes. Bloodshot and blown she peered up at the small group that was now standing farther away than before, shocked that she finally acknowledged them.
"Leave." Wren's cracked voice sounded through the room. So quiet, yet so loud. "Get out."
"You know we can't," Beretta spoke, spinning one of her bright colored rings over her pale fingers. "We have to..." She trailed off, looking to the painting of a meadow on the wall. Wren already knew what she was going to say.
"No." Wren began, "I'm not going back, I'll take my own life before that happens." She sneered, eyebrows furrowing in anger now that the situation had been finalized since she had spoken about it out loud. Her heart started beating faster in her chest. She gripped at her shirt, rubbing her feet together on the chilled floor.
Beretta gasped, "You can't do that." She was right. If she were to do something like that, Tripp would be forced to take her place. She couldn't leave the world making someone so helpless go through something so cruel again. Wren wasn't selfish.
Wren stayed silent as an answer. Beretta's features softened for a moment. "I'm sorry, Wren." She murmured. Wren laid her cheek against her clothed knees that were pulled up to her chest.
After a moment, Wren slowly untangled herself from her spot on the ground. The sound of joints cracking and grunts out of the back of her sore throat were the only things heard in the room. She pushed past the group and headed to the kitchen where she splashed her face with water and gripped the edge of the sink.
"Shit," She cursed to herself, turning around to face them. "I'm scared out of my mind right now, not that any of you would ever know how that feels. I need more time to accept the fact that I will be dying soon." She grovels out, her voice sounding unfamiliar to herself.
Beretta and the rest gape at her while she makes her way to her upstairs. "Please," Wren started. "Don't speak of it, not yet. I'm..." She falters. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet."
Wren's scowl and angry eyes turn dull before turning around, leaving the group on the first floor staring at her retreating form, having no other choice than to abide to her wishes.
━━━━AUTHOR'S NOTE━━━━ ཻུ۪۪༄☆‧₊. °
hey, so i haven't updated this in almost a whole year and i'm sorry for the being so inactive, it made me happy logging on and seeing all the positive comments so i finally finished this chapter. it's very short but i feel like it's kind of gives a look at wren's character!! i haven't edited this chapter but i will soon.
thank you so much for waiting and supporting my book :) i appreciate it.
