Page 133
Story: Distorted Obsession
. . .
Exhale.
Inhale… she was the light in my life…
. . .
Exhale.
Inhale… sometimes you’ll never know why…
. . .
Exhale.
Tears blur my vision as I try to outrun the pain ripping my heart to shreds. I didn’t expect them to care, but I also didn’t expect them to have that much hate in their hearts.
I run, even when my legs feel like they will give out.
I runto escape the heartache… to escape the betrayal.
I runto hide from my demons.
Everything was a lie.A perfectly crafted plan to lure me in and trap me before destroying me. This was never about me getting my absolution—paying my penance. It was about all four of them getting restitution, and my body was their compensation. But I can’t figure out how Liam and Mason fit into all of this.
Hurdling forward before coming to an abrupt stop, my chest heaving as my pulse pounds like the drums of death in my ears.
A droplet splashes on my cheek, and I can’t tell if it’s my tears or the rain. One turns to two, and three turns to nine before the sky opens to mourn with me.
Inhaling, I throw my head back and embrace the world’s pain, allowing it to wash away the last vestiges of me. Eva Rose Pierce died here today, and the woman replacing her will be a force that Farrah will be proud of.
As gut-wrenching as tonight was, it was exactly what I needed to be reborn. A genuine smile, brighter than I’ve had in years, curls up my face.
“I’m free, Fah,” I shout, pulling off Colter’s hoodie and boxers, tossing them to the ground. Then I kick off my shoes, leaving me barefoot in the rain in a sports bra and a black lace thong.
“They thought they’d break me, but the assholes underestimated my resilience,” I mutter, strutting toward my dorm.
Farrah and I made a pact to live for each other until we could live for ourselves. Ana ?aysh lik ?tta nqdr n?ish l-rasi.
I’ll live for you until I can live for myself.
She didn’t keep her part of the bargain, but I’ll be damned if the last thing we did before I left and she died was a blood oath, our promise to our sisterhood.
I failed to be my sister’s keeper, and she suffered as a result of my failure.
Yanking the door open, I stride down the hall, ignoring the shock plastered on people’s faces. But I’m too numb to feel shame… it never got me anywhere anyway.
Betrayal coats my skin, covering me with mocking glee. Its rancid taste sticks to my tongue like a filmy residue.
Turning, I spit, hoping—no, praying to wash away any bitterness. Then I waltz into my bedroom, and my smile drops. My renewed fierceness wanes when I’m greeted with the mess that made me rush to Coop and Colt’s.
I contemplate how to handle the scene as I grab the bottle of water by my bed, uncap it, and drink, quenching my parched throat. Unwilling to be anywhere near my dead best friend’s heart, I sit on the floor next to my nightstand.
Time escapes me as my vision blurs and my head begins to spin. I try to shake the spinning sensation away, but it only gets worse.
“Wharlt theeshth fuccckk.” My words slur, and my mind glitches.
I hear my door open and shut. It’s quickly followed by the snick of a lock. At least I think that’s what I hear.
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