Kimi's POV
"Kimi, are you okay?" Audrey asked as she cautiously approached me, her eyes filled with concern.
I could barely hold back my overwhelming emotions. "I killed them. I sucked the life out of them," I blurted out, my voice choked with sobs.
Without hesitation, Audrey enveloped me in a warm embrace, her arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. She began to make gentle, soothing circles on my back, a gesture that brought a small measure of comfort amidst my chaos of despair. Tears streamed down my face, each drop a painful reminder of the weight I carried within me.
"It's okay, Kimi. It's okay," Audrey whispered softly, her voice steady and reassuring, still drawing those calming circles on my back. But I felt anything but okay.
"Nothing can ever be okay now. Charlotte..." My voice trailed off as the memory of her flooded my mind with excruciating clarity, and I felt the tears fall even faster. The crushing reality of my actions weighed heavily on me; I had taken the lives of both a mother and her child.
Audrey took a step back, concern etched on her face. "Let's take you home," she said gently, as she led me toward the car with an urgency mixed with care.
The drive home was steeped in an unsettling quietness, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. I was grateful for the silence, as I found it difficult to form words anyway. My mind would drift back to thoughts of Charlotte, and each time it did, I felt an acute pang in my chest, a reminder of my irrevocable choices.
Upon our arrival at home, I sank into the comfort of our living room, the familiar surroundings a slight reprieve from my guilt. With trembling hands and a heavy heart, I poured everything out to Audrey. I told her about Charlotte, about the lives I had taken, and the dark shadow that now loomed over me. She listened intently, her understanding eyes reflecting genuine concern. In that moment, I was reminded of how lucky I was to have such a compassionate sister.
"So, what do you want to do?" Audrey asked, her tone gentle but probing, wanting to know my heart's deepest desire amidst the wreckage.
"I want to forget it all. Forget our relationship, forget the lives I took," I replied, the words spilling out amidst fresh waves of tears that stung my eyes, blurring my vision.
"Are you sure? Some memories are worth holding on to," she said, her voice laced with worry, as if she feared I was making a choice I might regret.
"Not when they hurt. When they serve as a constant reminder of what could've been," I retorted, each word a painful confession.
"I've got a way," she said suddenly, a flicker of determination lighting up her face. She headed upstairs, gesturing for me to follow. Despite everything, a spark of curiosity ignited within me.
When we reached her room, I watched as she knelt down and pulled out a worn trunk from beneath her bed, brushing off dust that had settled on its surface. It was locked, but she swiftly produced a small key from her pocket and unlocked it, revealing a spellbook nestled inside.
My heart raced with a mix of fear and intrigue. "What are we going to do with that?" I asked, my voice quivering between uncertainty and a flicker of hope.
"This," she replied, flipping through the pages filled with strange symbols and incantations, "might be the answer to help you find peace or at least the release you seek. We can't change what happened, but perhaps we can help you let go of the pain and create a new path forward."
As she spoke, a sense of possibility washed over me, mingling with the remnants of despair. Maybe this was the first step in confronting the darkness that had enveloped me, in seeking not just closure, but healing.
"Where did you get that?" I asked, astonished and incredulous at the sight before me. The artifact sparkled with an otherworldly glow that seemed to pulse in time with my racing heart.
"I'll tell you later, okay? But let me first find something," she replied, her voice a mixture of excitement and urgency as she sifted through the aged pages of her spellbook, each leaf filled with arcane symbols and mysterious incantations. The atmosphere in the room crackled with anticipation, as if the very air bore witness to the secrets being unveiled.
Suddenly, she exclaimed, "I found it!" Her eyes sparkled with intensity, locking onto mine as if to gauge my reaction.
"Let me see," I urged, leaning forward with curiosity.
"No, you can't," she insisted, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Take a piece of paper and write this down."
With a nod, I dashed to my room, grabbed my journal and pen, and hurried back to her side. The excitement in the air was palpable, fueling my desire to uncover the knowledge she possessed.
"Whenever you want to remember everything..." she began, her tone almost reverential as I scribbled in my journal. I could feel the weight of those words, their potential hanging heavily in the air.
"Say..." I prompted, urging her to continue.
"Hacer que los recuerdos olvidados resurjan," she declared with a dramatic flourish, the words flowing from her lips like a spellbound incantation. I quickly wrote it down, my mind racing to keep up with her.
Yeah, I know Spanish. We've been around a lot, picking up bits and pieces from our travels together. But this was different; this was powerful.
"You can put that away in a safe place," she instructed, her voice steady and serious. I carefully took the journal, gingerly placing it in her drawer as though it contained the very essence of our shared history. At that moment, I felt I trusted her more than I trusted myself—she knew things I couldn't even begin to comprehend.
"Now stare deep into my eyes," she commanded, the authoritative tone sending a thrill down my spine. With a mix of trepidation and exhilaration, I did as she bid, focusing on the depths of her gaze.
"Olvida todo el dolor y comienza de nuevo," she articulated, the phrase echoing in my mind as a wave of warmth washed over me. In that instant, I felt myself slipping away from reality, the world around me fading, until everything went black, and I passed out, my consciousness surrendering to the unknown depths where pain and memory intertwined.