Fifteen ~ Quinn

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Sensitive subjects mentioned later in the chapter.

A soft humming wakes me up. Again, for the second time in two days, I don't recognise my surroundings. The cotton sheets wrapped around my body are soft, expensive. The pillow is fluffy and extremely comfortable.

The humming gets louder and I look up to see Rya sitting on her dresser scrolling through her phone. There's a bottle of vodka beside her with a good chunk missing. A joint dangles between the fingers of her free hand and the room stinks of weed.

A cloud of smoke surrounds her head as she puffs at the blunt and then she stubs it out on the wood of her dresser. She's wearing a blue support on her wrist and had changed from her dress into a pair of leggings and a sports bra.

Her eyes land on me and I'm not sure whether or not to be scared. She could have killed me already but she didn't.

"You're awake" she says, her voice rough. "I was starting to think you were dead"

She rubs at her head and then slides off of the dresser. Her bare feet hit the ground and she made across the room without another word. I watch her perch on the edge of the bed and smile at me.

"How are you feeling?" She asks me. I don't answer. I don't know how I'm feeling. I'm not really feeling anything at the moment. "We have to talk, but it can wait until you're ready. All I ask is that you stay in here. I can only protect you if I know where you are"

Protect me? She's mafia. She's a killer.

So am I.

She sees the conflict in my features and grabs my hand so suddenly I jump. "Don't feel remorse for them" she tells me sternly "They would have killed you without blinking"

Is that how she sleeps at night? Is that thought what keeps her going? Maybe she just doesn't care. Maybe she enjoys it. You always hear about the rush you get when you kill someone.

I didn't feel it.

I remember the cold metal in my hand. I remember the fear that flashed across his face just before I pulled the trigger. I remember how she was still alive. How I shot again.

I hate it because right now, I don't feel remorseful. I don't feel sad or angry. It's like all of my emotions have just turned off and that's not right. I should feel something.

My grandfather's gone and I killed two people. My world is falling apart and I can't even feel sorry for myself.

"I'm going to put this away" Rya says and I turn to see that she's by the door with the bottle in her hand "After last night, I can't look at it"

I watch her leave and the door closes. The room is so silent. It feels so wrong.

I need to pee but I don't want to get out of bed. I hate this feeling, this nothingness. I know that I can get out of bed, I can go to the bathroom. But my body doesn't want to cooperate.

I lie there until it feels like my bladder is about to burst and then I finally find the strength to lift myself out of the bed.

I walk into the bathroom and see an of Rya's stuff spread across the counters. Her green toothbrush next to toothpaste. Some sort of floral soap by the sink. I see her shampoo, conditioner and an array of body washes in the shower next to similar products for a guy.

A drawer is open and I spot a bag of bathbombs, a pack of unopened wax strips and a box of tampons inside before I actually do my business.

I hear her come back into the room and she calls out for me. I don't answer her and hear her walk around the room a little before seeing the closed bathroom door. "Quinn? You can go for a shower if you want. I think Switch used my shower last time and left some stuff in there"

"Ok" I shout back but my voice sounds strange.

I hear her retreat back towards her bed and then I decide that maybe a shower will knock me out of my funk. The effort is colossal but I manage to undress and step under the water. I don't even wait for it to heat up.

After a few minutes, I step out of the shower and dry myself off. As I pull my underwear on, I spot something I didn't see before.

Rya's razor.

It's pink and flimsy with three razors inside. I can hear Rya humming again outside and my attention is brought back to the razor.

I have it in my hand now and I start at it. It's a lot like mine but a but lighter I think. A bit less robust.

I place it on the counter and pick up the shampoo bottle too. It's hard enough that I can slam it down on the razor and the blades basically fall out.

I do it.

"Quinn!" Rya shouts startled by the bang.

I don't answer her. Now I have three little blades on the counter. Two little blades on the counter, one in my hand.

I sit down on the floor and look at my already scarred thighs. I have to feel something. I don't deserve to feel numb about what I have done.

I hold the sharp edge to my skin and feel the first zing of pain and watch the first drop of blood roll down my leg.

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