Hell is Lost | Book I

Chapter 22

Damian had taken the sane out of me, ripped it apart into pieces, and turned me into this insane and pathetic mess.

I was missing him badly. Yes, I was. I had not seen him since the party, that unfortunate night when he had kissed me and ignited this spark inside me, which had now turned into a full blown fire, that wouldn't stop burning  until it destroyed everything in its wake--unless he put it out first.

Abnormally twisted thoughts swamped my mind as I thought about my descent. How did I go from hating him, wishing that he was dead...to this? Did he slip something inside my mouth that night when he was missing me. Was it dark magic? Is he a sorcerer? Or was his kiss really that toxic, poisonous and potent that I ended up like this?

Whatever it was, I was definitely suffering.

Days and nights passed away in agonising longings for him. I pined in silence, locking myself up in my room, in the dark corners, knees clinging tightly to my chest to numb the gnawing pain in my stomach that wanted to devour me.

It was like I had tasted drugs, and I wanted more, and without it, my body was going through this painful withdrawal.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked at myself in the mirror and saw how deplorable I had become. I needed him. How could he just set me off like that and leave?

I had lost my appetite, nothing tasted good, not even water. There was an unquenchable thirst inside me but its cure was not water. 

I waited, and waited for days, but he didn't come. Where was he? 

I sobbed and screamed my lungs out as I curled up in my bed and squeezed the pillow tightly with my fingers, crying myself to sleep every night.

There was no way to find out when he was coming back, except through Agnes--who was a conduit, a link between Damian and me, and my only source of finding anything about him. So I tried to coax it out of her, indirectly, without making it sound like that I was missing him.

But unfortunately, she also had no idea when he would return. 

Dejected and completely broken, both physically and mentally, I was sitting at the dining table and mindlessly making circles with my fingers in the plate placed before me. "You haven't eaten a thing," said Agnes, who was sitting next to me. 

I wish I could tell her the truth...

"I..I'm," I was just about to answer her when the main door opened. I was sure it would just be someone else, like a florist or helper but I looked anyway--and was left gaping when I saw Damian's tall figure entering through the door, clad in all black, full sleeve dress shirt and formal trousers, like he always did, hair slicked back, hands carrying his phone and car keys.

He was finally back. 

My heart started beating out of my chest as I stared at him with glimmering eyes. Unable to contain my excitement, I got up from my chair, accidentally knocked the glass of water over with my hand as I frantically moved, and the water poured out across the table, submerging the freshly made chicken pasta completely, and turned it into a soggy pulp. 

I looked down, Agnes was staring at me intensely, as if perplexed by my reaction. "Oh, I'm sorry..I was just picking it up," I stuttered. "It's okay," said she, her tone coarse. 

Never in my life I could have thought that I would be so happy to see Damian Blackwood--but I was. 

As excited as I was to see him, he didn't reciprocate it, and bolted straight to his room, without looking at me. He didn't even look at me...

However, I was pleased that atleast he was back, and I was able to see him after so many days. The thought of him calling for me or coming in my room, to see me, kept me satisfied, and helped ease some of the painful longing that was crushing me violently.