3

36.3K 1K 1.2K
                                    

My body may be a temple but I'm the god to whom it's devoted to. So don't tell me how I may decorate my altar

Blinking my eyes open, my head ringing and my body feeling light like a feather

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


Blinking my eyes open, my head ringing and my body feeling light like a feather. Light like air almost. Light like I could sink into oblivion and no one would see. Nor would anyone care.

Lucas was the only person I thought I could trust, other than him I was all but alone in the world.

Groaning I roll over, the sound of sheets ruffling under me made me shoot my eyes open. Sitting up, feeling dizzy and uncoordinated I saw a bed under me.

Pure white virgin sheets, a comforter and pillows. Touching my forehead I winced as I felt the blood from when Lorenzo pistol-whipped me.

My throat felt dry and scratchy, and my hands looked as if I had been digging a hole of dirt. As it stained under my chipped nails and imprinted itself into the skin of my hands next to the blackened bruises.

Bringing my eyes up, I'm met with a bedroom. It was small, plain, but it was still a room. It had a bed, a side table, and a door which I assumed was the bathroom or maybe a closet.
"What the fuck," I whispered as I flipped back down on the bed, my arms no longer wishing to support me.

I felt nauseous, from what was probably a concussion, I pulled myself off the bed and transported myself quickly to the bathroom.
Throwing up everything I had into the toilet,
Coughing as I gripped the sides in an attempt to support myself.

I hated vomiting. When I was younger I drank till I threw up, but now throwing up was not something I would bring myself to.

"You know, you look like shit." I heard a voice from behind me, and I opened my eyes. Flushing my vomit, I stand up before washing my mouth out with crystal clear water from the tap.

"I'm sorry how am I supposed to look when I've been kidnapped by a bunch of trigger happy bastards with fists," I growl at Marco who stood leaning against the doorframe.

He nodded at my response and looked away, as I focused my vision up to the small mirror above the sink.

I did look like shit. Worse than shit. My hair was knotted and my skin was stained with blood and dirt. "What you did was pretty ballsy." Marco crossed, as he looked me over. "I have never seen someone speak to him the way you do and live after it."

"Well, I guess I'm just fucking special," I growl as I walk back past him. Stopping once I'm back at the bed. "Why the fuck am I here." I spun to face him and he was, of course, standing right there.

"Because he wants-"

"Okay yeah, I get that. But why in this room, I am pretty sure when you get kidnapped you aren't shown to a king bed and a bathroom."
My voice sounded harsh, and I could still taste bile on my tongue.

SparrowWhere stories live. Discover now