Emma

Chapter 9

Cole jerked up from his slumber, sweat beading his forehead as he stood up and began pacing back and forth. He racked his hair with his fingers, trying desperately to calm himself down. His chest rose and fell, letting out heavy breaths and he felt his eyes water, a single tear drop slid down his cheek causing him to freeze.

"No" He whispered before letting out a frustrated groan. "NO!" He shouted way much more loudly. He swiftly turned before forcefully punching the innocent mirror that stood behind him. The glass shattered into pieces, chunks of it harshly penetrating the skin on his knuckles.

The physical hurt adding to the frustration he had, caused him to let out another groan, this one filled with the sense of a deep pain. His knuckles coated with blood as the thick red liquid slowly dripped on the floor.

More tears flooded his eyes and he couldn't hold it any more.

He wept.

Tears poured down his cheeks like a tsunami disaster, no sound was heard, just pools and pools of tears running down his cheek. 

"Why me!?!" He shouted at no one in particular. Why not you? A quiet whisper said, suddenly hovering in his mind. It was different than the ones he usually felt. People don't literally hear voices. They feel them. And the voice he felt at that moment was not the one he was used to. He couldn't tell how. But he knew it was a different one.

And the thought of another voice taunting him, only increased the pain he felt. He got on his knees and covered his face with the palm of his hands, every time he closed his eyes, he could see her. The life draining out of her face as she lay limp in his arms. All he wanted was the pain to go away.

All he wanted was to forget.

To forget and feel absolutely nothing.

It was not on a normal base this happened, he usually went on with life normally until one day the nightmares would start and last for about a week before going, but this was pure anguish. The pain had doubled itself and nothing he seemed to do could stop it.

He hated drugs of any kind cause all they did was make him dizzy and add to his headache, the smell of any kind of cigarette or alcohol nauseated him. He couldn't sleep and only felt some sort of peace when he was on that hill, and even at that, the feeling was still there.

His fist clenched tightly against his face as he let out a shaky breath. It seemed as though his eyes had gone dry with no more tears left to cry. He walked over to his bathroom before switching on the tap and washing his face.

Cole stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower before switching it on allowing the cold water to numb his skin, the pain had reduced a little bit and he began to control his breathing, before it speed up as the voice he was very familiar with, came back, taunting him. 

You don't deserve peace.

He suddenly wished to feel the strange voice he had felt before. He closed his eyes and the darkness unsettled him so he quickly opened them back, letting out a deep sigh as he switched off the shower.

He stepped out and wrapped a towel round his waist before heading back into his room and wearing his usual plain white, long sleeved shirt with black jeans. He grabbed one of his watches and clipped it round his wrist, grabbing the key to his bike before heading out the door.

He sprayed the bike with sanitizer and hopped on it, starting the engine and riding off.

He didn't know where he was going nor did he care, all he wanted was to hear the sound of the wind against his ear, drowning out any other thing attempting to flood his mind. He purposely didn't put on his helmet, that was the least of his concern.

All he wanted to do was listen. Listen to the wind as though it was telling him an important secret that only he could understand. He felt some of the hurt go away as he rode faster and faster. Ignoring everyone and everything.

He could hear the faint sounds of people yelling at him to slow down but that only added the fuel to his fire. He didn't care if he crashed. He didn't care about anything at all. All he wanted was to feel the wind vigorously blowing against his hair, to feel the sun as it's dim light shun indicating it's setting, to smell the dust, the smell of free air and rain.

He fought the urge to close his eyes and see what would happen if he did. He wanted to vanish, to disappear from the face of the earth that he saw was filled with nothing of light, and see where it lead him. Maybe to the voice that tormented him or maybe to the voice he had heard earlier and he suddenly longed to hear more. Why not you? The question still ringing in his head.

Maybe it was because he didn't deserve to live, maybe that was why all the bad things had decided to hunt him and anything that surrounded him. Maybe, just maybe if he just disappeared, just stopped breathing, maybe everything would turn okay for everyone, maybe that would be where he would find his peace. 

Don't you believe there is a God?

The feeling of the voice he felt earlier on, hit him again and he caught his breath. What if there actually is. What if there actually is a God. His head screamed with possibilities, with thoughts of wonder and an uncertain hope. 

Even if there was a God, you of all people are not worthy of forgiveness. 

The influence that tormented him came back, this time in full force.

The sound of the wind seemed to disappear as silence washed over the place causing him to increase his speed, his grip tightening on the wheel. 

The place had become unusually dark, but he didn't care. He couldn't see a thing but that only caused him to ride faster. 

He wanted to disappear, needed to vanish. He wanted to feel nothing at all. 

He wanted peace. 

He needed peace. 

And that was what he was looking to get. 

He didn't care how. 

His grip tightened more if possible, causing the deep cut that he had not tended too, to tear wider. 

Blood slowly glided down his knuckles but he didn't care. 

He didn't even notice. 

All he was focused on, was riding into the dark.