Carlton ✔

46| The Scathed Wits

Dedicated to: Sweetdreamsch3369

Thank you for the consistent votes!! :)

Hey everyone!

Soo yeah, a while ago I said that less than 10 chapters were left buuut it seems it's going to be a tad bit more than that! I shall inform you when we reach the second last chapter.

I really want to thank any of you reading this for making it so damn far into the story. Like seriously, you are fuckin amazing and I love you so so much and I appreciate your support from the bottom of my heart ^^

Please do vote, it helps a lot <3

Love, K!

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"What matters most is how well you walk through the fire."
~ Charles Bukawski

Carlton's POV

My heart was empty.

All around, darkness enveloped me. I was left alone in the room, hanging from the ropes with bloody trails dripping down my face, my arms, my chest, my stomach, everywhere. My breaths were short and raspy, almost as if someone was still choking me. I was gasping, fighting for every breath.

I was aching and burning all over, shivering from the biting cold of the night, over my drenched clothes. The chilly gale, flowing in through a small, open window high up on the wall, seeped into my bones, making every movement suck my soul out of my body.

They should've just killed me.

Grunting, I lifted my head, looking up at the open window. The night sky was still and noiseless, but an aura of urgency lingered in the air. It was the calm before a storm.

It was hard to maintain conciousness when my whole body weighed me down, my eyes were droopy and my mind, fatigued. Strong gale whooshed into the room for a while, swishing my hair in all directions, making my body stiff with frigidity. Clenching my teeth, I controlled it. After a while it was gone.

But something had changed.

Even if I couldn't view it, I could feel it.

I looked back up at that window, yearning to be where I craved to be, with the people I craved to be with. And in that moment, I realised the true importance of those people in my life that I mistreated. My throat began to hurt, wishing I had been nicer to them, wishing I could tell my friends how much they meant to me and I was so grateful for them.

I wished I could meet my Father one last time and tell him that he was fucking horrible person but he was a damn good father, and I loved him for that.

Just when all my hopes began to fall apart, the distinct jingling of bells interrupted my thoughts.

My eyes flew open. But I wasn't conscious anymore, was I? I was dreaming. My body suddenly felt weightless, unhurt, floating in an ebony abyss.

Am I dead?

In front of me was nothingness, but I could hear the soft jingling of the ice-cream truck, and the distant voices of kids laughing and playing. The scent of vanilla wafted around me, enriching my senses, sending my mind spinning off into a whirlpool of nostalgia.