Lacuna

Lacuna

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Sep 2, 2021
It had been two years. Two years, and Irene was finally home. Yrelia is a normal adult. Living in a crappy apartment with taxes to pay and financial struggles, she is your average next door tenant. But on the day her best friend returns from travelling the globe, strangers pound on her door at midnight. And Yrelia starts to discover that Irene isn't who she says she is. Not even close. // She waggled her eyebrows at me, just as how Irene always did when she was in trouble. It hurt me witness it. "Kill someone? But you aren't dead. That counts as something, right?" Irene said. "Oh? So whoever you killed doesn't count because it's not me?!" "I'd like to say that they did." "Liked? LIKED?" "Yeah. That's what I said." I lost it. "You're a KILLER!" I shouted. //
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lacuna
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"Kill..." the low whispering voice trailed off into my head. I don't think the strange whispering voice came from anyone in the room. It was too loud; too abnormel; too deadly. Suddenly a cold shiver ran down my back making me scream and cry out for someone, something, anything. I want to be alone, somwhere dark, somewhere safe. My eyes open to see a woman cradling me in her arms. A man with red eyes, tan skin, and blonde hair starred at me. His eyes sunk into my head making me wince. The woman is natuarlly warm and comfortable, but her face is stained with tears mixed with blood on her, once beautiful, face. She smeared some of the blood onto my puffy cheeks with a warm beaten and calloused hand. "You're gonna be okay," she assured me. More tears fell from her eyes. I looked closer into her grayish, I think, eyes. They had evil tucked beneath fear in them. I don't know what she means, yet her words mean the world to me at this very moment: 4 minutes ago, I was born.

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