Don't Stay, Don't Go (Ben Drowned Love Story)

Ch. 19

We sit down in one of the back rows, per usual. I unknowingly chew the skin off my lips as the boring speech goes on. I notice my mouth is almost full of blood and stop. My lips burn, and as I run my tongue across it stings like hell. Like a vampire, I suck the blood from my wounds, savoring the difference in taste from that of the heart I ate.
I ate a heart. Who knows who it belonged to or if that person had a family. Someone at the mansion killed them in cold blood and stole their heart. I feel sick. Please don't barf, it would sting my chewed up lips so bad.
Now nervously I continue ripping the skin from the inside of my mouth, tasting the metallic blood soak into my tongue, then move down into my stomach as I swallow.
What about Ben? What about Gus? I know Gus doesn't like me but I still feel like I need to protect him. Do I have to protect him from Ben? I hope not, anyone at the mansion would easily dispose of all my friends and I, probably without even causing disruption. Is that why I feel like I should protect him? I don't know anymore.
I can't bite my lips anymore. My mouth is swelling and it feels like hell just for my mouth to exist. This is not going to be a fun healing process. I delicately stand up and make my way to the bathroom. Once inside I look in the mirror at my mouth. I pull my lip up to see how much damage I've done. That doesn't look good. It's easy to see my swelled face and the discomfort it causes. I walk back to my seat and slide wordlessly into my seat. I wait for the next half hour to drone on while trying not to move my mouth at at. Then by some crazy possibility, no one seems to notice and we drive home. I go up to my room and strip off my dress, tossing it on my bed. Then I change into a new set of pajamas and lay down. Soon enough, my door swings open as my dad barges through.
"Please out away your cloths. And that's not where that goes." He points to my discarded dress.
"Alright, geez. Bye now." I try to shut my door but he won't let me.
"The door. Stays. Open."
No no no! I silently wail. You can't make my door stay open! I need privacy to do stuff! Like what, sulk? My mind throughs back at me.
"Fine." But slowly I shut the door, then sit on my bed. I might as well through this dress in the wash. I pick it up and find my fingers touching a piece of paper. Did I have a paper on my bed? I don't think so. Distractedly, I though the dress in the hamper and look at the paper. Its written in scratchy words, a bit hard to read but manageable.
"Døn't hurt yøurself... Løøk under yøur pilløw?" [A/N: see the picture]
"What does that mean? Who the heck wrote this?" I mutter to myself. "What's under my pillow?" I tenderly try and chew on my ravished lips without hurting them and fail. I flinch and hiss at the pain. Should I look under my pillow? Who could have left me something? I sigh and lift up my pillow, anxious to see what this mystery person left me.
A bag. And a bottle. They left me a bag and a bottle. The bag has some sort of thing in it, god knows what, and the contents of the water bottle are obscured by the casing. It's a black bottle, with a simple twist cap. I inspect the bag first, it looks like... I don't know. It's definitely bloody though, the inside of the bag is stained deep red. I drop it in horror and step backwards a little bit. Why is their blood? What is it? I go back and open it a little bit. Then I take a little sniff. Is that- did someone leave me part of a heart?! Why? How? Why?! Who would have-? The only people I know who even have this is the Pastas. The Pastas! Alright, who could have sent me this note? Lets think.