Chapter 40: Wicked

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Hey guys! I have so much work to do yet what am I doing?? Writing this story I love so much! I love this book omg.

Read if you dare!
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"I didn't tell him to pull the trigger." I hardly let out. He stood there. A little more intensified. Veins clenched with glassy blue eyes. It felt like his eyes grabbed my soul.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore." Blake stared at me saying those words. I didn't know what that meant. All I could hear was my heart pumping through my ears. He took my soul destroying it. I felt it almost. I did. I saw it in my tears. I saw it in his.
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Silence.

The deafening screech of nothingness. No sound. Not an echo in sight. Besides my subconscious to question everything and anything. Should I be grateful? Should I be ungracious? Was this wonderful solitude in disguise? Or my sanity finally breaking piece by piece.

Blake hadn't spoken to me. He hadn't even tried to speak me.. I'm sure it had been two weeks or more. He didn't even open his mouth. Show a hint of regression. Any sign of failure. He hadn't..

I don't think he even grumbled the slightest.

I stayed in the room. Our room I'm assuming. Some days he'd show up. Some days he wouldn't. Some drunk nights he came in. But still not a word. I smelled it off his breath when he stumbled into the bed.

Even then when I thought he'd be himself he wasn't. He still didn't let a word out. He wouldn't even touch me. I turned my head over one night seeing his back towards me.

I guess I was happy he didn't. He is a horrible human being. He doesn't deserve to touch me the slightest. He killed Danny. He killed my spirits.

He gave me food though. He gave me water. He gave me towels, wash cloths, soap. He gave me the necessities for life except communication.

I showered every night trying to clear my thoughts. Was going through some weird menstrual thing but that was over now. I felt myself going crazy not talking to anyone.

'At least he would've been talking to us.'

I think I'm past that now.

I enjoy the silence. I shut my eyes as the water trailed down my face. The droplets on my skin mixed with soapy water. I scrubbed the nonexistent dirt off. Breathing.

I'm talking to myself more than I ever have.

I'm also taking more showers.

Yet as I am alone in solitude in the bathroom of all places my mind goes back to him. Foggy yet clear.

Blake.

Then to my family. My mother, my sister, my aunts uncles brother— How long I've grown to miss them. With that, the hatred grows for him again. As a budding flower in spring. My dark dislike increased. But also a solemn thought lurked in the back of this now cold mind.

Why can't I understand him?

I tried my hardest to understand him. I feel like I did everything.

'Who is he even?'

"He's a coward," I say out loud to no one. He can't be a man. But he was a man and my mind was racing about his.

'Wonder what he's thinking. What he's planing—'

"To be a nuisance as he always is," I spoke to myself. I ran the comb through my short hair. Shutting my eyes. I can question all my life. Why he does certain things? But that'll lead to nowhere. I am already in nowhere and nothingness with this silence. I don't need to question my existence especially mine with his. I felt my short hair and thought of him. Pausing staring at the orangish brownish tiled wall.

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