"Dear Thalia.
I have every reason to believe I am going to die soon. Forgive my harshness; for I have found no easy way to filtrate my thoughts.
In the darkness of the night and the coldness of my blankets I see the ghost of our past as a cold white blazing light, blinding and distorting the truth. I see monsters creeping up to me, crawling toward my unmoving body. I see myself followed by a hooded figure. Below the shade is an attractive face with enticing traits, but before the man is a barrier created by my xenophobia. I run faster every night. Yet my legs are paralyzed.
Dear Thalia, I have every reason to believe someone's plotting my murder. And through the fear of leaving without having said everything, I write these words to you."
Another incomplete letter that I toss above a pile of countless others.
Paranoia has its place in a world like ours. You would think that living in the twenty first century in one of the most lively places would make a difference. It doesn't.
In fact it doesn't make any sense.
I gave up on my faith shortly after my sister passed away. She was all I had. I once believed in a God that would answer me, in guardian angels that would actually protect me -and the ones that I loved- from any harm. I closed that door a long time ago.
I took the first step straying away from the light for now there is nothing left to hold me back.
My name is Thalia Bourbon, and I will not rest before I either validate or refute my sister's theory.
YOU ARE READING
Collusion
General Fiction«Secret or illegal cooperation or conspiracy, especially in order to cheat or deceive others.» Manhattan. Modern times. Thalia recently lost her sister. She has reasons to believe she was murdered and is in search for clues she might've left her. A...
