I Don't Feel the Pain »» roisa ««

Again

"Lu?" I stand up, looking around. "Where are we?"

She furrowed her brow. "Los Angeles. It's where we've been living for the past 7 years. Where else would we be?" She asked, walking over to me and wrapping her arms around my waist.

What.

The.

Fuck.

What is happening?

Why is she  doing this?

Ouch.

My chest hurts.

Same as my neck.

I see a bathroom near the room I'm in and walk into it as quickly as I can.

I pull my shirt up over my head and examine my body.

It's far from what I imagined.

My throat is bruised.

My chest has a scar right under my left breast.

The most surprising aspect of it all?

a small bump on my stomach.

I feel sick, and tired, and exhausted.

Mostly sick.

Sick.

Sick.

Bile instantly rises from my stomach.

Much like the anger from my head and heart.

But now, all I can focus on are the marks on my body and the sickness I feel.

I throw up in the sink.

Ugh.

Luisa comes running in and holds back my hair.

"Poor baby. I know it's hard." She says soothingly while rubbing my back.

Hard?

Ha, if only it was just that.

Though I doubt what she's talking about is what I'm thinking of.

"What-" I start before I'm cut off.

"Hold on." She tells me.

I nod.

Because really, what else is there to do but take in what's happening around you?

"Delilah, go grab mommy some medicine off the counter!" She calls from the bathroom.

A miniature brunette walks into the room with a bottle of ibuprofen in her small pale hand.

"Here you go, momma." She smiles.

Those eyes.

Blue.

Like mine.

That smile.

Bright

Like Luisa's.

Without question, I know.

That child.

Is my daughter.

Is our daughter.

"Thank you, sweetie. Now go play with your toys, me and mommy need a moment."

The small girl nodded and began to walk off.

"Oh wait!" She exclaimed and ran back into the room.

She walked to Luisa and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

Then she came to me.

And gave me a kiss on the forehead.

Then the girl bent down to level with my stomach.

And kissed it.

She kissed my belly.

"Love you, little brother." she whispered to the bump on my stomach.

Luisa smiled.

But I beamed.

I had a child.

And another on the way.

Delilah ran off and all I could do was think.

How did my life go from hell to paradise so quickly?

It doesn't matter.

Then I thought again.

And my hand met the scar on my torso.

"Luisa..." I was scared to ask. "Where did this come from?"

"What? You mean the scar?" She asked.

I nodded.

"It was... well... I don't really know. Whenever I asked, you said it was so long ago it was almost like a past life, and that I didn't need to worry about it." She shrugged.

What?

That doesn't sound right.

I know for sure that if Luisa asked about something as simple as a scar, I wouldn't brush her off like that.

And the way she said it sounded off.

I replayed it in my mind.

Over.

And over

And over again.

"Wait... did you say a past life?" I shakily questioned.

"Well, yeah. That's what you told me." She replied.

Oh my god.

I didn't escape.

I just alternated.

I know her  plan.

She's trying to make me think that this 'new' and 'perfect' life is to last.

So I can grow attached to it.

And lose it all.

A past life?

That's no coincidence.

It's a sign.

That I'm here.

And this is really happening.

The scar?

It's from last time, when I killed myself.

The bruises on my neck?

They're from when she choked me in the hospital.

What is this sick game?

Why the fuck is she still obsessed with me?

And most of all, when will it end?

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