Chapter 123
Another day…
Another morning…
Still, it did nothing to calm the turmoil I felt inside of me. Everything around me was just the same but I didn’t feel the way I used to. I feel hateful all the time, anger is the only emotion coursing through my veins right now.
It bubbled and twisted beneath my skin, simmering like lava waiting to erupt. The light that used to reach into the cracks of my soul no longer touched me. Everything felt dimmer, darker, like I was trapped beneath a fog that refused to lift.
Ten days, I spent ten days in that cell but it felt like a year. It felt as if that cell didn’t belong in this world, time passed by slowly there.
The walls of that place were not just cold, they were suffocating. They fed on my silence, devoured my sanity. Seconds dragged like hours, and hours bled into eternity. No sunlight, no sound but the echo of my own shallow breathing and the ghost of footsteps I learned to dread.
I looked out of the window and felt nothing… this view always brought me comfort but now it did nothing to me. Nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of me.
The morning haze floated lazily outside, the trees swayed like they always did, birds chirped on distant branches oblivious to the war inside my chest. The same street, the same sky, but my soul didn’t recognize it anymore. I was an intruder in a life I once thought belonged to me.
I remember looking out of this window and dreaming of a life outside these four walls. I thought it’d be a fairy tale. I thought when I live alone, I will be happy but it was all useless.
The dreams were naïve, drenched in a child’s fantasy. I imagined independence would bring me peace, but it brought solitude. I imagined safety, but only found silence thick with dread. I thought I’d find myself. Instead, I lost everything.
The world is a dangerous place and you are easy prey,,
Nikolai.
A bitter voice hissed inside my mind, a voice that sounded like my own but darker, crueler. It mocked me. Reminded me of every scar, every bruise inside and out.
I wouldn’t always try to see the good in people. I hate it. I hate this. I hate my life. I hate this room. I hate Bianca. I hate Scott. I hate… Alessandro. I hate him.
The words repeated in my mind like a curse, like a mantra. Hatred made the air easier to breathe, even if it tasted like rust. It kept the fear at bay. It was the only thing left that still felt real.
Stepping out of the room, I looked down the long hallway that led to the staircase. I took small steps and went downstairs. I made my way to the kitchen and heaved a sigh of relief when I found it to be empty. I took out a tumbler from the kitchen cabinet and poured myself a glass of cold water.
The water felt like ice against my dry throat, but it did nothing to cool the fire inside. My hands trembled slightly, the glass clinking as I brought it to my lips.
It was so silent, so deadly silent, unlike my mind which was in chaos. I sniffled and opened the refrigerator door. The refrigerator was filled with different ingredients. I was in no mood to cook, I slammed it shut and turned to look for a box
1/2
Chapter 123
of cereal.
The slam echoed in the stillness like a gunshot. My heartbeat thudded in my ears. Just as I reached for the cereal-
“You’re awake?” Alessandro stood in the doorway.
He was wearing a white t–shirt and grey sweatpants. His hair wasn’t made and was all ruffled up. His eyes were bloodshot as if he had never gone to sleep last night.
His presence hit me like a punch to the gut. Even like this disheveled and tired he filled the space too easily. It was unfair how much space he took up in my mind without trying.
“Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”
I didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. I settled on the kitchen island seat and put my head in my hands. Taking it as a yes, he strolled inside and started to make breakfast for
The sounds of him working, pans clinking, bacon sizzling felt too normal. Too peaceful. I didn’t trust it. My skin crawled
with discomfort.
He placed a plate in front of me with bacon and eggs. I silently started to eat and then the self–loathing crept up. I couldn’t even make breakfast for myself, good for nothing stupid, Nikolai, can’t even make breakfast.
Chapter Comments
♡ 1
POST COMMENT NOW
<SHARE
