#11 IN ACTION
(PARIS)
Buried deep below the everyday life of our society lives a world of nightmares-of violence and murder no one dares speak about. It is called the Sinner's Society.
In the murky waters of Chicago's underworld I'm arranged to marr...
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𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢 I saw him, I couldn't breathe again until he had dressed himself completely. From the crack of the guest room door, I saw him get out of the bed and inhale deeply as if he had achieved something. The white bedsheet had creases and wrinkled lines. Even a twelve year old me inevitably understood, why the bed sheet was so rumpled. Two bodies had thoroughly engaged in bad touch on it . . . At least that's what Cindy warned me it was when one of Tin Man's friends tried to shove me in a room. Scream. Fight. Run. Bad Touch never allow.
Biting on my inner cheeks, I kept my mouth closed and struggled to keep from blinking as I watched him, taking in his entire body on a long, single breath. I knew his body would be incredible: lean, muscular, tall stature, deep black hair, and a walk that had an air of authority - like no one could possibly have anything to say that was of any importance to him. But the blackened tattoo blazing up his left side reminded me that despite his designer clothes, his background was all but respectable.
It was his eyes, though. Ooh his eyes . . . Adjusting himself comfortably as he dressed, he only glanced at the naked girl, her body draped across the bed, still gasping for more from him, until she fainted from exhaustion.
Without even a single word, without even a gentle kiss on her lips, or even a wave of good-bye, he came out of the door and stopped seeing me. Our eyes collided for and stayed.
My eyes felt weird.
And his eyes. . . I gasped, open mouth and staggered back, first fear and then awe washed over me at what I saw . . . The back dots dilated and golden rings of fire erupted around the black enlarged pits covering the blues.
My arm involuntary went up and one of my tiny finger pointed at his face. But I could not form words to say what I wanted. And I shouldn't have pointed out either. Because his face darkened; a flash of temper etched his features.
My heart grew bigger and bigger in my chest until it filled every inch. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't blink. My hand flew back to my chest, grasping my oval locket, seeking Mummy. There was a part of her in there, to stay with me, even though she was not completely there with me. It was a piece of her soul in the locket, Cindy had told me. Mummy!
