It can hurt, but it heals. It is hard, but it brings the truth. Sometimes broken, sometimes built strong. An action of truth and description of sincerity. Love, truth, and respect are words without which it is nothing. To tighten their bound, one th...
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I was slapped.
I exhaled as my eyes shot open. My face throbbing in pain. It felt warmer. And my mighty brain got on to work.
"You slapped me!" I roared to Carson.
"WHAT? After all that bloody mess. After all those shitty stuff happening. After me saving your worthless life. After all those freaking damn shit bloody hellish you saw. This is what you say? You slapped me?" He managed to yelp all those words within one breath, extremely mad. Yet terror dancing in his eyes. He facepalmed and fell on his good leg trying to remove the tattered cloth on his injury. It wouldn't stop bleeding.
"You're bleeding!" I pulled myself up.
I didn't know to kick myself or him. What the shit was wrong with my tongue? My brain was permanently damaged.
Thanks for stating the obvious with your complicated sentences, I thought.
Carson stared at me, dumbfounded.
"No, I'm just excreting extra liquid to lose my weight!" Carson said in a sarcastic, dry tone.
"Jeez, calm down, dirty face. Lemme help you with that bloody injury of yours."
I forced myself to move forward.
There were marks of some claws, pierced through his clothes. Tearing his clothes as well as his skin apart. The scene sickened me. But I managed not to throw up and tied the injury tight with the scarf that was on my neck.
"It doesn't suit me." He whispered trying very hard to smile. But the pain and terror didn't allow him very well.
"Then lemme get my scarf back, but wait you dirtied it!" I scoffed back.
"Dirty face, it doesn't suit me you know, I can somehow deal with your scarf."
"Ughh!" I rolled my eyes. It seems like he'd drunk from the river of endless-ability-of-annoyance.
"Seems like the party's over! What time is it?" I realized that it was very quiet.
He pulled out his phone, the one that saves... well, nearly killed us up.
"It's 3:59." He blurted. "Couldn't have you waited one more minute to ask me?"
"What? We were four hours in that place?" I wondered sheepishly, paralyzed.
"Not possible!" Carson was as surprised and confused as me, then he shrugged. "Maybe?"
I groan throwing my arms down.
"What was all that about... I mean..was it real or... Ughhh I dunno!" He shivered, and believe me it was not cold.
"It was so very real." I gazed at nowhere.
I prayed no flashbacks would come, at least not right now.
"Why did you even go there? Are you some secret agent or what Miss. Cold-tongue?"
"Kyrell!" I jumped to my feet, scaring the cat out of Carson.
I remember following Kyrell into that ally before he appeared and all those shits happened. I repeated in my mind.
"What do you mean 'Kyrell'?" He raised an eyebrow.
"She went in and I followed."
"Maya?" Somebody calls my short-name but this time, it is not Carson.
A new voice echoed through the hallway. Carson jumped three feet into the air, flinching at the pain of his bad leg. I cringed remembering the hissing voice. I glanced at the direction where the sound was coming from.
The creature collapsed on the ground, and I was sure it had Kyrell's face.
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