*** NEW AND IMPROVED ***
With her father missing, Shay will do anything to get him back, even if that means teaming up with a cruel gang leader and his band of psychotic men.
CHARACTER VIEWS DO NOT REPRESENT MY OWN.
***WARNING*** OFFENSIVE CON...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SO COLD
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. SILENCE WAS no-where to be found in the cold hours of the yawning morning. It was a grey day. Dull, bleary and rainy. Rain hammered down from the skies, intending (hopefully) to kill.
A soft hum escaped slightly moving lips. In synch with a song that played in my head on a radio with only one station. My thoughts were chaotic, buzzing with manic energy, and violent. I swatted them, beat them into unconsciousness and sat royally on top of the pile of dead bodies. I didn't want to hear it.
Nothing happened.
Nothing.
My nightgown slithered up. The tubes curled around my hand and in a sudden psychotic fit, I furiously tugged and it felt as if there was a hook inside of my chest, latched on a long curved bone of the ribcage, stubborn to let go...until it finally did. Splashes of blood splattered across my stomach. The wires fell to the floor. The heart monitoring machine flat lined. Murdered, at long last.
**
The cane with the lion head was first to walk into the room, Cebrián followed close by. He wore an open collared white shirt and his salt and pepper hair was hand combed. He settled in the armchair. Silent. Shifted and raised an eyebrow at me. "You look like shit."
"If I had known I was going to be entertaining guests, I would've brought out my best church dress." I said sourly, brow lowered, hateful and irascible.
"The doctor tells me he sedated you after you wet your bedsheets with your own blood. You had to be restrained once more," his gaze momentarily acknowledged the handcuff on my left wrist and he flashed a bright white smile. There was no warmth behind the expression and he berated, voice calm. "What are you, a child? This is embarrassing behaviour from a young lady."
I leaned forward. "Fuck off!" My spit sprayed his face. I was senseless, delirious with rage. Maddened. I wanted to beat his face until it was a mushy, bloody red mess. No longer recognisable. No longer human. "I hate you and I hate your fucking son. I hate all of you." My voice cracked. "Leave me alone. I never want to see any – just go. Please. I'm so tired. So fucking tired of it all." I put a hand to my eyes, and uncontrollably wept. "Go away. Take everyone with you and never return. All your son has ever brought me is misery. Him and his men. And I can't do it anymore. I don't want to be here with him or any of them. I want to go home. I miss my family. I want to be with them. Not here. Not here. Please. Tell Cole about Oscar. I don't care anymore. I'm just so tired of it all. And it hurts. It hurts more than I can ever put into words." I cried pitifully.
In a surprising turn of events, Cebrián sat on the edge of the bed, grew a heart and pulled me into his chest. I tried turning away but he refused to give up. He was sympathetic and he rubbed my back, murmuring soft words. It only made me weep more and I blubbered and begged for an ending and I don't think I made much sense. "Feel better?" he asked after I wet the front of his shirt.
