𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒

Scene 4°

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Of course it was her! Since that wedding, everything went downhill for me, my whole life deteriorating, becoming worse and worse every single day and especially night.

The fact that I have not guessed it sooner made me enraged.

I distinctly remember that purple hall, lights shining brighter as the music stopped and crowd cheered, her white wedding gown moving with her body and that smug smile she had going on, that I had just assumed was because she finally put our idea into action.

Our idea that we had already discussed, prior to her wedding day, but I guess she had something else entirely on her mind.

I remember her telling me she was going to give me her wedding bouquet because she wanted to be the best maid as soon as possible, while we both did the last preparations for one of her most memorable days.

And I was so silly and naive not to see right through it, that I had agreed.

The fact that I gave so much of my time, affection, nerves, money, hope and everything else for this friendship, for her to do this to me with no regret, made me feel incredibly stupid.

She did not even go behind my back and stab me there, she had the guts and the audacity to walk up to me in that silly, purple hall filled with people, while holding my gaze hostage and hand over to me something what could have meant my end.

My absolute doom.

I even spoke to her a year ago about those strange occurrences and I even went as far as to ask her for her advice on what I should do regarding everything that was happening and that kept gradually picking up pace, turning into something I had no control over.

I even started to despise and avoid the navy blue colour, thinking maybe that dress that I had on that night was the cause for everything. It wasn't logical, but nothing that was happening to me was either, so I searched for any concrete reasoning of why I could no longer be myself.

For fucks sake, she was the one who kept pulling up the numbers from the churches all around our area and after they would refuse my case, she was the one who I would cry to when I realized I had to go through that hell for another night.

This lying, motherfúcking, sly bítch that had insulted my intelligence so bad for the last time.

Moron.

That is what I thought of myself for a few minutes, before I remembered I still haven't told her I was again on speaking terms with my mama and that I was scheduled to visit grandma soon.

She knew my grandma did some magic of her own, I had spoken to her about it sometime in the past, so after I stopped talking to most of my family members, she knew this was the right time to attack because then, I would be left all on my own.

She miscalculated, thinking she was going to win this, not knowing how tight the relations are between Croats.

Then I went from being mad, to being worried.

Did she start using black magic even before she met me? Had she done this before or was my family story so intriguing that she felt the need to do it herself?

What was her reasoning, why would she do this to me? What have I done wrong to deserve this kind of treatment, her wishing not just bad luck, but straight up death upon me.

"A-And most importantly, is someone else out there, suffering like I am?" I stammered out loud.

I could not hold it in anymore.

As incoherent speech left my mouth, startling my mama, I just started spewing everything out, most of what sounded to my grandma and mama exactly how their Croatian sounded to me, incomprehensible.

Once everything was out in the open and I have gathered my thoughts, I started again, this time without the blabbering.

I explained everything, as we all walked from that room to the living room, leaving the pitch black behind.

I didn't even realize how much that represented my life right now, I have finally left the darkness.

We sat on a couch, them talking, but I was thinking of what to do next.

I couldn't just go up to her as ask her all the questions I wanted and needed an answer to, that would not be logical. And I couldn't have gone to the police, even though I had scars on my legs to prove that my situation was real and that all those dreams were a reality. They would not have believed the story, such as that one.

I was stuck.

Thinking about it only made my head hurt, until I saw a small sculpture of Černobog* and Bijelobog** on my grandmas coffee table.

The brunette that I had once considered my friend, that handed me that deadly bouquet, was in for a treat, but the revenge wasn't going to be direct.

I was to make it indirect, make her fear the light, just how darkness always does.

__________

* Černobog - Black God
** Bijelobog - White God

Ya'll if you knew they way I write my books lmfao I just put random sentances together from the ideas I have written in my notebook and I gradually work my way from up to down until they all make something consistent idk.