Capítulo Oito: O Baile

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Guys, if you're rereading (affectionately called RR's) please please please do not comment spoilers because I can't promise to delete every single one of them and I want people to be just as surprised as you were when first reading. Thank you.

Also, will you guys go check the announcement I posted to Bombshells (if you've read the book, if you haven't then you don't need to worry about it)? Pretty please?

The dress above is sort of what I picture for Gemma's dress? Not exactly, but it's as close as I can get to the image in my mind. Just imagine the back is cut low as well, but not too low because Gemma is twelve. This is a super long update to make up for my terrible-author-ness lately.

Happy reading!

Gemma's POV:

The blood was everywhere. Splashed across walls, pooling on the floor. There was so much that I could taste the iron whenever I breathed in. I gagged against the taste of death.

A whimper escaped my lips as I tried to make my way down the hall. The once lavishly decorated hall looked like it was a set from a bad action movie, million dollar paintings ruined forever and plaster crumbling around bullet holes. My heels were too loud, the sound of clicking breaking the thick silence that wrapped around me.

I stepped over the body of a boy who looked to be sixteen or seventeen, eyes wide and empty and dead. He was dead. He was a waiter, I'd seen him handing out drinks to people who believed he was there to service them, not to provide a life from himself.

Bodies were scattered. Everywhere I looked there was another body. Another body that used to be a person. Everyone around me was dead.

Damian's knife, the one he'd pressed into my hands when the whole ordeal began, slipped from my grasp when my ankle rolled, my shoes putting me off balance. It took me a second to register that I'd fallen into a puddle of blood, that it was sticky and warm and covering me.

I bit down on my trembling bottom lip in an effort to keep from crying out for one of my brothers. I wanted my brothers. Where were they? Why did they leave me? Tobias had promised, he swore, that he wouldn't leave my side for an instant. Where was he?

Bile slid up from my stomach, burning my throat and my nose. I tried so hard to keep it down, clenching my teeth to the point of pain.

The crimson staining my clothes and my skin was still wet. It wasn't drying. It was sliding from the palms of my hands, down my wrists and traveling to my elbow. I sobbed quietly, scrubbing at the sides of my dress. I didn't care about how expensive the fabric was at that moment, I just wanted the blood off. I didn't want it on me. I wanted it off!

Tears dripped from my chin and onto the floor. I held my bottom lip captive, relishing in the pain that woke me up from my panicked daze. I had to get up. All of my attention went to getting up, making it to my feet, and I did so. The pain of my twisted ankle radiated up through my knee, twinging whenever I put too much weight on it, but I didn't care.

God, I could still taste the blood whenever I breathed in.  The taste nearly make the threat of me vomiting a reality. It was all I could smell, blood and death, and on top of that now I could taste it. Oh god, I was going to be sick.

"Gemma!" Someone was shaking my shoulder, standing in front of me all of a sudden. I hadn't seen this strange man approach me, nor had I heard him over the ringing in my ears. I didn't move, didn't react. I couldn't. I slowly lifted my gaze, looking him over. I didn't recognize him at all and briefly wondered if he worked for my brothers.

I showed him my palms, still covered in blood, and he cooed. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and started wiping my hands. I could've cried in relief.

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