⚠️: suerslide, mention of ra@pe, death
Chapter 9:
Cold. So cold. Why was this happening? Not again. Please.
She could hear footsteps and a voice as if coming from across a lake. Her eyesight was blurry. All she could see was the girl.
Her warmth was the only thing keeping her anchored yet her running blood chipped at her sanity.
So red, just like that day. No! It's her fault. Just like them.
"It's all your fault" her father's voice echoed through her head. She was back at that place. It was her childhood house.
She heard places like these should be happy memories. Not to her. To her, it was only a cage made of stone.
Cold. It's freezing.
She barely felt being picked up. Not again. Please. Not again.
"You will always be worthless, slut."
"Oh look, it's the bitches trash"
"Such a shame~"
Eyes stared at her wherever she went. People laughed at her. It was unbearable.
No. It's bearable. No matter what she felt, it was just retribution.
Retribution for killing them.
They gave warmth. And she killed them.
She deserved to be cold. She deserved to be ridiculed.
"Sister! Don't worry, everything will be alright. I will talk to him." A boy smiled at her. He was around 9. They were hiding again.
He left her. No! Please!
Not again.
Never again.
"Hey." It was a childish voice, just reaching puberty. "You alright"
She seemed genuinely worried. A beautiful teen stood before her dressed in red. It was an image that gave the feeling of looking at a sun rise in the mountains.
The teen looked odd, to say the least. Yet she was memorized. Her green eyes contrasted strictly against the old man's blood- as if to say, your going to be okay.
"Hey." She spoke again. "Out of everyone, be the one to live."
She couldn't speak, just shook her head. Telling her savior, she wasn't worthy.
The teen took off her gloves and gently held her head. She softened her voice, "You need to live. People are bastards that feed off the weak. You are not weak. I see a fire in your eyes. Please." She wiped off her tears and paused.
After thinking a bit, she handed the thinly clothed girl a bracelet. Smiling she almost whispered, her forhead touching the others, "When we meet again, give this back to me."
She left with that. The young girl, dazed, packed up a few valuables from the room and put on a coat.
Her friend may take her in. For now, she needed to live. To give back the bracelet to that girl.