Dea Shattered

⎈Chapter 6: No goodbye

I woke up in my bed, reaching up I brushed my tangled hair away from my face. The events of last night were still spinning around in my head, and every single time I closed my eyes I could hear their screaming and cries from under the water.

I took a shuddering inhale and slid off my bed. As if on cue my Mom opened my door to wake me up. She paused and looked me over, a concerned expression on her face.

"Everything okay hun?" she came over to me and sat down on the bed, "you look miserable."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just morning glooms." I waved my hand around, my mom simply smiled and patted my arm. But her smile didn't reach her eyes, and concern still floated around in them.

"How about you paint some, that always seems to help with your... moods."

I looked over towards my desk, where my paint and unfinished projects sat on the desk forgotten. I nodded, and my mom got up and left the room. She sent a smile back at me and then disappeared around the corner.

I sat there staring at the walls. A small knock broke me out of my trance and I looked up to find James grinning at me.

"Hey, don't forget about game night tonight. We're playing monopoly, so you better be ready to lose." His grin widens and he saunters away, chuckling to himself slightly.

I don't know how long I sat there on my bed looking at nothing, all I could think and hear were the screams that the couple made before they died. It went on and on, a never-ending pattern of cries and shrieks.

I had just killed people, I had made them go into the water. I had made them forget how to swim, and I had killed them. Standing up I paced my floor, brushing my hand through my hair. I was a killer now, the police would come here with a warrant for my arrest because I had drowned someone. I don't know how they would say I drowned them, but they would figure it out. I glared up at my walls, where paintings upon paintings were taped. All of them were different angles of the sea. Some painted at night while others were painted in the day. Some had seagulls or humans walking on the sand. I froze as I looked at all the paintings.

    The ocean. Every single thing I had painted up there for so many years was the ocean. I hadn't even realized! The freaking ocean. Over and over, covering my wall.

I stumbled backward and into my dresser, it banged against the wall. My mother shouted from across the house at me, I couldn't hear what she said though.

I had never realized nor thought about what I tend to paint, I just let the brush do its own thing, and it had all turned out as the sea.

I needed to get out of here, I couldn't be here. All I would do is cause pain to those around me. If my family knew what I was... I didn't want to think about what they would do.

I grabbed the nearest duffle bag and started to throw clothes into it. I emptied out the piggy bank that I have had since I was a child. It could have only been a few hundred dollars, but that would do. I glanced over to my desk, and on a whim, I grabbed a single paintbrush and tossed it into my bag.

I started to make my way quietly through the house, my grandpa sat on the couch with a book opened in his hands. He glanced up at me and shoved his reading glasses further up his nose.

"What's all the rush, going somewhere?" He set down his book and looked over at me. I faltered for a second and looked at my grandpa.

"Yeah, I'm going to see... Grace." I lied and tried to give him the most reassuring smile. My grandpa turned back to his book, believing the lie.

I looked back at the house for the last time, taking in the details of the kitchen and living room. Then I opened the door and left.

I didn't know where I was going, I only knew that I wanted to go somewhere where I couldn't hurt anyone I loved. I knew deep inside that I would kill again, whether I wanted to or not. I didn't want to take the risk of harming my friends or even worse my family.

So I left and never looked back.

**Twenty years later**

Looking in the bathroom mirror I stared at myself. A thirty-nine-year-old in the body of a nineteen-year-old looked back at me. Trapped in time. A buzz sounded from my phone and I reached down to pick it up. It was a message from Nena, 'Party on the Island at dawn, some college kids are throwing it. Hopefully some alcohol ;)' the message said.

'By now you must be a legend at these things. Nenavist, the one girl that tries to get blackout drunk at every single party' I shot back at her.

'That's the goal. Now, are you coming or not?' I rolled my eyes at her text but promised I would meet her there. Nenavist, or Nena, was a fellow siren and never was one to back down from a party. She had come from Russia but we met when she decided to look for a change in scenery, and came to California.

'Did you invite Sab?' I asked and returned back to fixing my makeup.

'Like Sabishī Tanaka would ever come to a party. But yeah I did, and she said no.' I could practically feel the sourness in the text. Sab and Nene never got along. We only met Sab about a decade ago, and the two didn't hit it off too well. Sab preferred to be alone and spend her time meditating and doing other slow-paced and calmer activities. While Nene liked to party her nights away and sleep through the whole day.

Looking at the time on my phone, I noticed I only had about an hour to get ready. I sighed and headed out into the small bedroom of the motel, this had been the place that I have called home for the last two months.

Opening up a suitcase I glanced at the clothing options, some were new while others were old from my past life. I reached down and pulled out a cute red bikini and smiled at it.

Now, this would be a look.

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Published: April 9, 2020, 6:32 PM

Words: 1103