Saving My Broken Ice Princess
- LECTURAS 12
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- Partes 4
I grabbed the railing and pulled myself upright and slowly unfurled the leg I had landed on, blood gushed out with every flex of movement. I ran my finger along the bloodied jeans, a hiss forced it way past my teeth when I agitated the shot wound. Swallowing the pain was barely an option, my thighs cramped agonizingly as if dealing with it is energy expenditure enough.
Of course, baby steps wouldn't be able to save anyone. My head was yanked back. I screamed because of the unforgiving grip that yanked me away from my only support, my feet no longer touched the ground. I frantically scratched at the hand in my hair. My body goes still when I faced the featureless darkness looking down at me. It would cost me to keep fighting but the price of being still seemed greater.
"I want to survive!" I grit my teeth. "Let go of me!" I sink my nails in this thing's hand. Suddenly a howl filled my ears and I was falling. I collided with the ground head first. I lifted her face from the ground, white comforting cotton-like balls fluttered before my eyes. "Snow?" I sat up, hard white under my palm. "Where did all this ice come from?" Had the ground always been froze
"Oh god, I'm going to die alone." Something escaped my eyes or was it the rain still hitting my face. I didn't know, it was all so cold. When did it get this cold? I raised her hand, the tumultuous sky blurred and her eyes stung. "Rohan", my lips trembled. But I've given it everything, nothing left to hold me together and the dam burst. "I'm scared", I wailed, "I don't want to die."
"I won't let you."
Hallucinating in my last moments? Life is too cruel.
A larger hand covered my own, beautiful pale fingers laced with mine. We fit like pieces of a puzzle. The other arm gently cradled me to his side. He pressed his lips to the back of my hand. His dark eyes held mine, the golden specks glistening with an emotion I've never seen on him, "sorry for being late."
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" I scrub and scrub trying to make it go away. I'd happily go back to walking around internally dead than whatever this is. Watching the crimson substance go down the drain and off my skin- out of sight, out of mind, except it's not going away. I hated that pain was temporary but this... this pain I don't want it. I don't want to feel this. Tears begin to well in my eyes making my vision blurry. Weak. Anger surges in my veins and impulsively my fist connects with a tile on the wall of the shower shattering it. This is emotional. I don't do that. I don't do this- I don't cry in the shower. I don't let my emotions dictate my actions I haven't in a long time. It's stupid. It's childish. It's weak. I glance down at my knuckles on my right hand, watching the tiny cuts heal. Shouting, I punch the tile over and over and over again until blood runs down my arm and drips onto the shower floor. I reach my severely broken hand out under the water, momentarily stinging as water hits the open wounds which unfortunately close over seconds later. I crack whatever bones need it, back into place and look around me. The back wall of the shower is destroyed, shards of tile and blood scattered on the floor. As I stand under the scalding hot stream staring into nothing my mind falls silent for a split second. A few seconds of solace until everything comes crashing back. The tightness in my chest and my stomach, the cloudiness in my brain, the anger, the sadness. It all comes back. I sit down away from the shattered pieces of tile, curling my legs up and letting the near boiling water hit my back. There was a feeling of relief in losing everything I was. Whatever it is that has clawed it's way to the surface, I want it gone. I want that relief back. "Concluida
My dream continued the one I'd been having for the past couple of nights. I ran, gasping for breath, through the familiar woods from a dark figure behind me. The faster I tried to run, the slower I seemed to go, until it was like I was running in place. I knew I needed to run. I was terrified of what the figure would do when he caught me. "Mara Leigh," a deep, smooth voice called. It was almost hypnotic. That was new. The figure had never spoke before now. I ran as fast as I could go, eyes searching the forest floor for a big stick or something that I could use to defend myself. "Mara Leigh!" the voice came again, this time more insistent. The forest slowly started to fade and I started to awake to someone shaking my shoulders. "Beau?" I mumbled, turning my head to the side. What's Beau doing in my room this time of night? Why is he shaking me? "Do not call me that name." My eyes flew open as I jumped at the voice from my dream. A face was right in front of mine, and just like the voice, it wasn't Beau. Before I could form a scream, a hand covered my mouth. I tried to bite it but I couldn't get my mouth to open. He's too strong. I started to use my whole body to try to get away, but he crawled on top of me, holding me down. I pulled the hidden knife out from under my pillow and slashed as hard as I could at him, but he just grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the knife. Then he grabbed both my hands in one of his and held them over my head. He held me down while I struggled. I grunted and moved and tried to kick and scream, but I only wore myself out. Exhausted, I stopped thrashing and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to prepare myself for whatever was coming.
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