Austin

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The shrill ringing of my phone diverted my focus from the wooden fragments I was assembling in the kitchen.

They hadn't just fallen; I'd shattered them. Shattered them in a fit of rage.
Again.

She compelled me to act. Zera. Zera Palmer. The sole girl capable of plunging me into emotional states I never wished to experience.

I swiped the trail of sweat off my forehead, feeling the tension knot in my muscles as I made my way to the secret room. Each step echoed loudly against the floor, the sound of my boots resonating through the empty space.

As I entered, I was met with a dim red light, complemented by the soft glow of my laptop screen on the desk. The walls were adorned with various pairs of printed photos, their images seeming to fixate on my expression.

There are pictures of her scattered throughout the room. Some show her scantily dressed, dancing on a club's pole, while others capture her entering or leaving the club -some captured her entering or exiting the club; some featured her in class or at the library; and a few depicted her with her brother, Sarah, and numerous other acquaintances.

However, one picture stood out: the one of her and Gerard in the library.

The intensity in her gaze as she looked at him irked me inexplicably. Those eyes spoke volumes, stirring an unwarranted anger within me.

She should be looking at me like that, not him.

I let out a hiss of frustration and grabbed my phone, answering the call as my other hand snatched the photo from its place.

"Hello," my voice cut through the silence of the room, reverberating softly.

"Mr. Walton, this is Grace Hospital. Your mother, Mrs. Walton, requires urgent medical attention, but she's resisting treatment. Calming her down has proven difficult. We're considering sedation and would need your consent for that," the nurse's voice streamed from my right ear to my left, sending a chill down my spine.

Again? What the hell does that woman want from me? All she seems capable of is staying alive and causing me stress. It's not my fault she ended up like this, so why can't she just die already? I've had enough.

"Dose her up," I instructed firmly into the phone, my hand trembling slightly as I ran it through my hair.

"If it means restraining her and quieting her down to treat her, then do it. Just make sure she doesn't cause any more trouble." I exhaled heavily, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling on my shoulders.

I ended the call abruptly after the nurse's response, tossing my phone onto the desk with frustration. Placing both hands on the desk, I lowered my head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me.

Various thoughts raced through my mind as I mentally rehearsed the preparations I had made. Almost everything was set; she just needed to arrive tomorrow.

I picked up my phone once more, scrolling through my contacts before dialing her number. After a few seconds of ringing, her soft voice crackled through the phone, causing me to clench my jaw.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Zera. It's me, Austin," I whispered, forcing my hand away from where it had landed in frustration.

"Oh... hey," she replied.

"I hope you haven't forgotten about our meeting tomorrow. I've already sent you the address. Are you still planning to come?" I asked, needing reassurance that my efforts wouldn't go to waste.

"Uh... yeah, yeah. I'm coming," she responded.

I released a sigh of relief the moment her words left her mouth. Tomorrow, I would finally execute what I've been working so hard towards.

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