𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘴 ~ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty: 
I Promise
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I promise.

Two simple words that carried an endless meaning. To most, these words were thrown around carelessly and without and meaning. I promise this, I promise that. The word almost didn't matter at all anymore.

Not to Ramona. The word promise meant a lot to Ramona. She didn't take this simple word lightly, which is why she believed Steve wholeheartedly when he told her he wouldn't let her die all those months ago. 

She could remember exactly how she felt at that moment. It was a whirlwind of emotions. It didn't feel like reality. It felt like a nightmare she desperately wanted to wake up from.

The blood soaking her white shirt pushed her into an anxiety-ridden state at the realization that it was no nightmare, but real. She almost couldn't breathe, she felt suffocated. In that moment, she felt pure fear for her life. She had no idea if she would survive. She thought, without a doubt, that she would die.

The idea of death didn't necessarily scare Ramona, but she wasn't ready to go so young. Death wasn't something she was unfamiliar with. In fact, the girl was eerily close to this idea. Death had followed her around like a lioness on her prey nearly her entire life. 

Her dad when she was a kid, by a drunk driver on the way home. She vowed off alcohol after that day, even if she was only nine years old. One of her best friends two years ago, and she had to pretend like everything was okay, even when everything wasn't. Her grandma when she was seven from a vicious disease

Her mind ran rampant as her eyes landed on her blood-soaked shirt, and Steve could tell. As much as he hated her then, he didn't want her freaking out. Even in the chaos surrounding them, he still wanted to make sure that she was okay. When Steve grabbed her so carefully, forcing her to look at him and whispered those two words so softly, she couldn't help but trust the boy she'd once hated. 

"I promise." He said. He promised her he wouldn't let her die, and she could tell by the emotions dancing in his eyes that he meant it with his entire body. 

He didn't mean to break his promise. He tried, Ramona knew that. Ramona knew he tried his very best not to let her die, and that's what hurt her the most. The thought that no matter how hard you try, life will always fuck you over in the end. 

That was proven to be true as the door swung open moments later, revealing the Russian soldiers. The general loomed over her as the so-called doctor walked over and unloaded the torture devices onto a table. The general's lips curved into a sinister grin as he blocked out the blinding light. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

Ramona let her head fall back onto the cold metal table as she shook her head. The lights flickered on, blinding her within seconds. Pain shot through her head quickly, leaving behind a dull ache slowly creeping down her spine. Her head pounded as her sweaty and bloody skin stuck to the metal table she was restrained to, "Si yo tengo que."

A dark look crossed the man's face as he looked up at the doctor, muttering in Russian to him as Ramona sluggishly pulled at the restraints in a weak attempt to free herself. "Do you know what respect means?"

Ramona rolled her eyes as her neck grew weak from the strain put on it. "Why, no! Why don't you explain it to me, bastarda?"

The soldier muttered something in Russian, raising his hand, taking the large needle from the doctor's hands and clicking his tongue. "This will hurt."

A pained scream left Ramona's lips as the needle pierced her skin, and at the sound of it the soldier's eyes seemed to brighten. Ramona whimpered as she felt the cold liquid flooding her body. Her muscles tenses and she reluctantly let her body stop fighting.