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【𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗】
(tw: vomiting, extreme gore, mentions of su*cide and self-mutilation. please skip the italics sections of this chapter if you are not comfortable with reading these. I will write a short description at the end of this chapter for those who choose to skip.)
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
A TERRIFIED, HIGH-PITCHED SCREAM rang loudly through the silent air the moment that the small hand on the clock reached three. There was an echoing thud that followed the scream as Himari, in her haste to escape the suffocating hands that had wound themselves around her neck, fell off the end of her bed, writhing and terrified.
A blinding flash of pain shot through her head like a clap of thunder; quick, prominent and momentarily debilitating. Nausea caused her stomach to lurch and she clapped a hand over her mouth as sick warmth began to rise into her throat. She fought against the sheets that had cocooned themselves around her body and nearly tripped over her feet in her haste to make it to the bathroom in time. She felt the rough, cracked tiles graze her knees as she collapsed in front of the toilet, head hanging over the bowl as she retched violently.
Somewhere, through the foggy haze of the nightmare that had clouded her mind, Himari was glad she had thought to tie her hair back off her face before she fell asleep, in the event that she should wake up screaming and sick from another horrible nightmare that had left her shaking and sweaty in the uncomfortable cold of the early autumn morning.
She leaned her head back against the wall, her throat burning from the bile that she had spat into the toilet bowl. She reached up, trembling violently and her fingers slipped more than once as she attempted weakly to flush the remnants of what little food she had managed to eat the night before.
Himari wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her legs to her chest as she thought back on the horrific sight that was permanently burned into the back of her eyes. The sound of the bones colliding with the floor in a sickening symphony of cracks and thuds echoed through her head like some kind of a twisted orchestra. The incessant, aching pound of a headache conducted the horrible noises in her mind and she brought her hands up to her ears, pressing them flat against the side of her head in an attempt to silence the sound of a body hitting the floor.
"Shut up," she whispered. "Shut up. It's not real. It's not real."
But she knew that it was. That she had seen it happen, through someone else's eyes. Through his eyes, across the ocean.
She had seen the way bits of the victim's brain matter had splattered the walls of what could only be described as a hospital, like red-drenched decorations. The white concrete was stained with glistening, scarlet red that shone like liquid jewels in the light of the afternoon sun. She had a feeling she would never forget the grey, lifeless eyes of the victim as it stared back at her, neck twisted violently at an obtuse angle from how hard they had hit the ground.
