AFTERTASTE. | J. JK

EIGHTEEN.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN; STILL ALIVE

Sometimes all it takes is the simple tapping of the ballpoint pen on white paper bouncing back on the walls of a dead silent office, in the last two hours before resuming a work day, to awaken these thoughts. When the sun is already setting but you can't even notice it because of the clouds floating as gray stain brushes and the sharp edges of the skyscrapers have it so well hidden, when the coffee is already sitting cold on the cup, untouched and the numbers and the graphic tables all become huge mountains building up before your eyes. When all Y/N wishes is not to be where she is in the present but rather somewhere else. Anywhere else.

They emerge gradually, as links, one after another, of a chain she keeps at her neck, at all times, ever since that day. At each day, they grow closer to the skin, sinking into the pulsing veins and learning that fighting against them had become useless, Y/N allows to suffocate a bit more for the greater good. It would be a lie if she said she doesn't feel entirely selfish for doing so, nonetheless.

The feelings have been growing weaker, however, to the point the clench of her heart doesn't feel distracting anymore. Now, she can only see the occurrences running through her eyes as if she had left her body and had become a mere observer.

The pen, twirled between her fingers, keeps tapping against the white paper and, soon, Y/N is back to that time again.

~*~

"You can't do this to me." 

She warned, hands still gripping the door handle tightly as if she believed it could give in to the strength. Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed at the man's idiotic stoic demeanor, concealing the most of the panic that began bubbling up inside her the second the click of the locking of the doors and windows rang in her ears.

She wasn't perfect though, and the fright began spilling at the edges, such edges the man could see right through. His expression softened, and without a word he turned his head back to the wheel and, turning the key on the ignition, he stirred the yellow car back alive.

From the reflection of the car mirror, he stared her in the eye, brown eyes gleaming darker in a beast-like aura, the flat line on the tin of his lips remaining frozen. Y/N felt like she was trapped with a lion. He spoke calmly. "I'm doing what's best for you, can't you see?"

Y/N's hands were beginning to shake and the efforts on the doors of the backseat were just draining her that the first immediate thought was to use her feet, kicking everything that appeared in front of her and to scream, scream for her life. "Let me go! I'll fucking scream! Let me go, you can't do this to me! Help!"

Crawling from side to side of the backseat she strained the door handles with all her might, screaming from the top of her lungs for help that hot tears began crowding at her eyes in an anticipated helplessness forming. "Help! Help! Let me go, you bastard!" The panic was beginning to pour out of her, and her sight was turning everything blurry to her reach, the next thing she found herself doing was to look for was her phone and ask for help.

The exasperation in searching through her bags to find anything but her phone was driving her mad and the reality was slowly sinking in realizing that the car moved farther and farther way from the city and, like this, she wouldn't be able to get to the airport on time.

"What the fuck did you do? Where's my fucking phone!? I need to go! I can't do this, right now! Let me go!" She insisted on the doors, eyes widening out of their sockets as the taxi entered through the tight, rocky roads where there wasn't any sight of another living soul. "What do you want for me? Please, just let me go! I need to get to the airport, please!"