❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Isabella cocooned the blankets around herself, the constant tossing and turning causing the blankets to form an unforgiving chrysalis. And yet, no matter how painful the cocoon became, she refused to emerge. There was an irrational voice screaming in her head, insisting that the removal of her enclosure would have dire consequences. That the nightmares lurking in the dark would be able to reach her.
She knew it was childish. She knew that she should have grown out of this by now. And yet, she couldn't help the fierce acceleration of her heart in the absence of light. Sight. The absence of sight. The absence of knowing.
Isabella feared what she could not see.
She feared the monsters that reality prevented from existing. But closing her eyes would leave her vulnerable to the monster that fiction could never recreate. A monster so vile and cunning that he had played his allies like violins.
She refused to sleep.
And yet, she couldn't stand to be tormented by the spindling tendrils of darkness that had no verdict other than the harsh desire to suffocate her.
In a moment of absolute impulsivity, she called upon the only person she knew who could fill the deadly silence.
