There's nothing you're forced to trust more than your own mind. You're dependent on it, it stores the memories that make up your world.
But what if it could be stolen from you?
Aspen's world is growing, from the boundaries of her country farm to...
Hi guys! again, long time no see. This chapter turned out extra long, and to keep with my twenty-chapter goal I've decided not to split it. Enjoy, and as always let me know exactly what you think. I'll be sure to update as prompty as possible ;)
♡ ann
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My throat was raw.
Maybe it was the screaming. Maybe it was the shallow sobs that had shaken my chest, tears soaking into the newly applied duct tape around my lips. Maybe it was the knife that had sliced my throat, leaving a row of jagged stitches in its wake.
But it didn't matter. The reason didn't matter. All that mattered was stopping him, and that was far from the realms of possibilities, especially while I was tied to a chair.
Since he'd left, the room had become cold. The fluorescent light was burning into my vision, and my stomach turned over itself in hunger. My mouth was dry and my bladder full, the minutes bleeding into hours bleeding into what felt like days.
But it couldn't have been days, because when the door finally opened again, it was Evan with food. He looked exactly the same as before.
"Hi," he said sheepishly, as if we were casual friends running into each other at the grocery store. "You must be hungry. I brought dinner."
My eyes followed him as he stepped off of the stairs, holding a small plate of what looked to be toast.
My mind was running fast. Despite the desperate growl of my stomach, I knew I could use this opportunity. In order to eat, he'd have to remove the tape. That meant I could talk to him. I could ask him to free me.
But, just as my hopes started to rise, a shadow appeared behind him. Blackwood.
His expression was curious, the thoughtful etch of his brow not having moved from our encounter that morning.
I didn't kill Gia. Gia isn't dead. I couldn't have killed her.
It was impossible. I chanted it in my mind, again, and again, and again. Despite what was hidden in my brain, the memories clouded in a fog that I couldn't quite clear, I was sure that Gia in danger would register. I was sure with all the power I could muster, my brain cycling over the traces of forest and the glint of a knife so many times that it brought a sweat to my brow.
I was sure that I didn't return home that morning. I was sure I'd have known if I had found her.
"I'm hoping you've recovered from your... episode earlier."
His voice was like a poisonous velvet, brushing over my skin so softly, yet setting every pore it touched on fire with a ravenous flame.
My episode. The screaming. The bleeding from my throat and my wrists. The explosion that I couldn't contain. If I could have I was sure I'd have ripped his throat out with only my fingers. The image of my nails biting into his skin had me panting with desperation.
