Over

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TW: suicidal ideation

*Y/N*

I couldn't un-see it, the knife plunging into Pepa's chest, Camilo's face as he realized what had happened, hearing his scream, and only one second to process before Ramirez had grabbed me. I screamed, hitting at him and fighting him, but he threw me over his shoulder like I was a rag doll. I caught a glimpse of Diego's face, his eyes widening as he realized what Ramirez was about to do, and then everything disappeared into a blur.

I couldn't believe how fast we were moving, hurtling through the trees, probably travelling multiple kilometers per second. I closed my eyes as I began to get nauseous. A few minutes later, Ramirez came to a stop, throwing me down onto the ground in a small clearing. I scrambled away from him, realizing I was about to be sick from the sudden stop from traveling at that speed. I gasped for breath, looking up at him, as he surveyed his surroundings.

"We'll get your brother once we're done, don't worry," he said, as if that would reassure me.

I couldn't find the words to scream at him everything I wanted to say, total exhaustion taking a hold of me. I put my face in my hands and cried, my sobs heavy, choking me, thinking of Diego's blank gazes in the cave, of Camilo's scream for his mother, of Pepa's eyes as we all saw the life leave them. I couldn't tolerate the fact that I had been so unbelievably stupid to think that I could try and kill Ramirez on my own, for causing her death.

"Oh, enough," he said dismissively as I cried. "You knew the consequences. And now we can move forward with no ties to the past. You obviously could never return there now."

I moaned in agony, folding forward onto the grass, crying so hard I thought I would vomit. I had just wanted to kill Ramirez, seizing the opportunity that Mirabel had given me, and Pepa was dead because of me. Even if Camilo obviously blamed Ramirez for all this, there was no denying that my actions caused Ramirez to kill Pepa in retaliation. If I had just ... listened, just done what he had said, Diego and I still would have been Ramirez's prisoner, but at least Camilo's family would have been alright. Ramirez was right, he would never look at me the same ever again - not that I would ever be free to return to him. My heart wrenched with each sob, feeling like I was dying.

"I said, enough!" he said, grabbing me and pulling me up. He touched my face where he had hit me. "Here, hold on." He touched my face and I felt the giant welt he had left on my face heal. Julieta's power. I held my hand on my cheek, glaring up at him. As if healing me meant anything right now.

"Where - where are - we?" I stammered out, trying to control the sobs.

"Getting my last few gifts," he replied. "The last family with gifts that we know of lives just beyond this clearing. They came here to go into hiding. After that, we'll hunt down the rest of your little boyfriend's siblings and see if what his mother said was true about them being in the forest, then go back for your brother. After that, this country will be ours for the taking. We'll go back for my men and then finally end the violence that has gripped our country for too long under my leadership."

Wondering how he could say all that with a straight face considering what he had done, I looked around, still struggling to breathe as I cried. It was eerily quiet here. 

"You wait here," he said. "Don't even think about moving, not that you would get far."

I glared at him, knowing he was right. We were somewhere up in the mountains, in the middle of nowhere. If I tried to leave, I'd be lost and dead within days. I nodded, showing I understood. He disappeared into the trees and I took a moment to try and catch my breath, before wincing and covering my mouth with my hand, replaying what had happened. "No, no, no," I repeated to myself, folding myself over again, covering my face with my hands, willing for my mind to go blank. I suddenly understood what Diego had meant when he said he wished it was just over - anything was better than the guilt ripping me apart right now, the heartbreak of knowing that even if I could somehow escape, everything was different and there was no going back.

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