"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
Aprielle Castellano was determined to commit suicide by jumping off the bridge, letting herself drown, and die with her lungs filled with water-well, not until this blue-haired gu...
trigger warning: this chapter contains disturbing scenes such as suicide attempt, suicidal ideations, and blood.
reader discretion is advised.
i lost myself // munn 01:43 ━━━━●───── 03:12 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı
“i feel the burden now itʼs weighing down my soul and i canʼt catch my breath ʼcause these demons follow.”
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01 | adeltore bridge
DEAFENING BEEPS rang deep into my ears. It was silent, and silence was all it took for the imaginary sounds of paranoia to take control of the subconsciousness left in me. The most stygian of nights had transpired, a traumatic event that will absolutely leave scars in my soul — never be forgotten.
How did it come to this?
A loud clank was heard as that object touched the cold tile floor. The earsplitting beeps stopped the very moment I heard the clashing sound, and there, I returned to reality. Mindlessly, I stared at my shaking hands.
I have blood . . . on my hands.
With widened eyes and gasps of terror, my knees weakened. I fell onto the floor, producing a clamorous thud in the silence of the night.
A silence — a silence made by the bravery of a girl who was screaming not long ago.
Blinding lights entered with the door opening, showing a mother — shocked and mad at the daughter who killed a father.
“You . . . you killed your father!”
A hard, wavering slap landed on my cheeks. Tears instantaneously cascaded down as my fists covered with blood curled into balls of frustration, anger, and self-pity.
“You killed him! It’s all your fault!” My mother’s voice roared before pulling me up and pushing me into a wall. It had a painful impact, but I’m too numb to feel anything right now. I saw Mom falling down the ground.
“I’m sorry . . .” I whispered.
“Get out of here! I don’t want to see your face anymore! You killed your father, then get out of our house! Don’t ever set foot on this land, you murderer!” she screamed, anger consuming all the vowels and consonants.
“But Mom . . . h-he almost raped me . . .” In a very low, cracked voice, I managed to speak it out.
“I don’t care! Didn’t you hear me?! Get out and never come back! Murderer!” She was hysterical, looking at me like I have never been her daughter.
