Pretty Misfortunes (Cruel Boys of Raven Oak Prep #2)

~Chapter VI~

~Madelyn~

I REMEMBERED BLOOD AS I ALWAYS DID WHEN I DREAM.

Why was there so much?

Lots of it running down my arms. Darkness wrapping itself around me like a blanket of comfort from whatever pain must have come after I blacked out. It was all I saw every time I tried to withdraw back into my memories. Or were they nightmares? I couldn't decide the difference.

Both felt too real.

I was trapped in a treasure box of the Lost and Found, searching for answers that never seem to come. So what was I supposed to do? I wasn't strong enough to continue on like this. Aimlessly wandering in and out of countless doors with hope one might give me back the truth about my mother's disappearance, unclutching what pieces remained lost in the deep recesses of my mind.

Why was there so much of my mother's blood smothered all over my clothes? Why was I found asleep in my own bed with the murder weapon? Why had Hannibal been there and what happened during that duration of his visit?

So many questions. Not enough answers.

Just dreams.

"Do you believe the dreams are real? That these figments in your dreams may have some sort of meaning to your mother's death?" Dr. Graves responded calmly to my vent.

Did I? Was there a possibility these memories might hold importance?

I wrinkled the cuff of my collared, long sleeve shirt. The urge to itch the scars underneath threatened to overcome me, but I pushed it back down and stared out the window of her office, taking in the architecture of tall buildings beside us before replying, "At first I didn't. I thought they were nightmares of guilt. I blamed myself for what happened to my mother, even if I can't remember it all."

Her pen scribbled on the surface of her notepad for notes. The soft action echoed in the solemn atmosphere which encased the pale and colorless room. She wore a black, pencil skirt and peach blouse with nude pumps. Waves of brown wrapped in a loose bun atop her head and light makeup enhanced beautiful features and exotic blue eyes.

Dr. Graves paused her scripture. "Do you still blame yourself?"

"I don't know," I said with a unsure shrug.

That truth was I wasn't sure if I could blame myself for something that may have never happened. How could I after Tobias and Aydin came into my life and shoved so much confusion at me. So much undecided truth that Charlotte Monroe was still alive? They made me question a lot about the past over the summer despite our anomalous introduction to each other forged by a chain of cryptic riddles dressed in murder and words stained with innocent blood.

Above it all I couldn't squander the feeling in my gut that believed them.

Maybe that made me stupid. Or insane.

I never proved to be otherwise.

Monster was my twin. The other half of my soul who recognized me. We were connected through blood whether I wanted to be or not, and yet none of that unnerved me. Quite the opposite. I felt oddly comfortable- as if I had always known Monster was my brother. That should scare me to be linked to someone who has hurt people. Poisoned my friends. Kidnapped me. But somehow I wasn't afraid, because like a wounded angel he steadied my fall from grace, carrying the weight of judgement and shielding the world away with a pair of majestic wings. But for how much longer?