Chapter seven: Delusion

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"Dear diary, mum has found a new house. It's six feet deep and two feet wide. I wonder if it feels like home there."

Gabriel's eyes were glued to those lines in April's diary.

It'd been six months; yet acceptance was something he couldn't bring himself to.

He wished that this world was just an illusion, like the ones they used to come up with while gazing at constellations in the night sky for laughs, nothing real. So when this world got too much for him, he could seek comfort in knowing that it wasn't real. Gwen not being there wasn't real and neither was her death.

He felt her absence as if it were solid concrete lumps cemented onto his skin. His mind had become blazing pit of agony, burns flaring up like wounds. He reminisced her presence fondly. He pondered if he preferred this sadness; looming like a haze in winter, cooling to his skin but sending chills down his spine or if he'd rather own the ruthlessness of a mad man that shielded the tenderness of her affection deep in his bones, because he needed it when life cradled him a little harsher than yesterday. She carried warmth in her heart, calmness in her smile and bliss in her presence.

At the thought of her, his seams of strength would come apart, he would get anxious to be home.

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