Simona Davis

14: The Tilting Point ↘

~ I can only take you in small doses ~
Small Doses( Bebe Rexha)

Simona's POV
The more I avoid him,the more I feel. My simple feelings have grown into a state of chagrin.

My level of rage has heightened ever since he was brought here. I've smoked so many cigars to the point I feel my lungs are going to shrink.

Haven't been able to sink my claws into anything because I'll ruin everything planned.

The cigars can't quench my need to block out my stupid thoughts. Now I've turned to Isack's junk that makes me feel I'm floating in clouds which puts me off even more.

His stuff doesn't work on me. I couldn't flush out the feelings with it. I wish I could get more tobacco but I can't go there,until I'm certain of Gia's plan with Walter.

This is driving me mad to the point I want to combust.
The worst thing is that anger is not the only emotion overwhelming me but guilt and sympathy. Two things that never existed in my life until now.

When he recognized my face,I felt a large mass of concrete fall on my chest. The guilt was stupendously overpowering, I had to walk away from his shouting.

The most frightening thing is he didn't cower from my eyes,not like the rest. I didn't intimidate him. He isn't afraid of me. He is angry. Well,he has to be given what has been going on.

As the new coward I turned to that day,I later ran to Isack's and got wasted. He asked me what was bugging me but I couldn't find the words to explain.

He wouldn't understand anyway.

At least he didn't notice my tension and passed it off as me not in the mood to talk. He still insisted for me to share my thoughts, noticing my abnormal drumming heart. But he sealed his lips when my eye colour changed. And even at that occasion, I felt guilty for being easily taken into rage and apologised. I remember his shocked face and pushed his head to the side,so he wouldn't think it was going to happen again.

I sat at the corner smoking my tenth cigar of the third hour,wondering what is making me this flustered. I sat in the corner watching him sleep on the floor. His eyes were calm and not full of the hurt I saw in them. His orange uniform hang loosely from his body. He had lost a lot of weight in such a short time.

The surge of blood in his vessels is slow and calm. I notice that the amount in his body has decreased, probably due to ill treatment when he was sent to jail. If he doesn't receive proper treatment he will contract a disease. Being human is such a disadvantage,you can die at anytime- like a fly trapped in an electric zapper.

He woke up after a while. His body audibly hums with the jolt of blood flow as soon as his eyes open.
He looked around and stopped,gazing at the smoke from my cigar. He hadn't seen me yet.

If only he knew how my mouth craved his flesh as much my fingers wanted his heat,he would dig through the ceiling.

If any of them knew how much I wanted to see their blood and flesh torn and glistening against my claws and teeth,they would scramble for the hills.

Overtaken by the silence I moved closer to see what is really inside of him. What are you made of? Why does a skin bag like you with no power in your veins pull at me?

I looked into his eyes and tried to weigh what I feel for him. What is it? His eyes were in shock for sometime much to my great pleasure. I always feel in control when someone else is intimidated by me. But they didn't stay frightened for long, as they noticed my shifty and wanton composure. I recoiled quickly,blocking him access into my feelings because he somehow gets under my skin every time he looks at me.