𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

Errorist (n.) - Someone who repeatedly makes mistakes.

Anastasia

A high-pitched scream reached my ears as her limp body fell to the floor with a thud.

Immediately, I sprung up; hot tears stung the soft skin of my cheeks as my mouth gasped for air desperately. "Calm down Ana, it's just a nightmare." Amara's comforting voice cooed, from her position at the door.

What Amara said was completely true. Nevertheless, it was the nightmare I had so desperately tried to suppress for years; and I eventually did, but now for the first time in almost 2 years, it's back to haunt me. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "Yeah, you're right," I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"Anyway, breakfast is gonna be ready at 9 am; I advise that we aren't late or Vincenzo will have our heads." Amara chuckled. "You should take a shower, you don't look so good."

" Thank you, for your compassionate compliment." I sarcastically chuckle.

"Because I'm so kind and so much more fashionable than you, I'm gonna choose your outfit."

"Okay. Don't do anything over the top."

"It won't be over the top! It will be sexy and it will definitely make Vincenzo's balls ache at the sight of you."

I sigh before grabbing my wash bag and wandering into the bathroom. I place the bag between the two sinks, glancing at myself in the mirror.

The girl who stared back at me looked like a mess.

Her hair was tangled and greasy.

Her lips were swollen and her eyes puffy.

The color had since long disappeared from her cheeks.

The only color to be found was the redness left behind after the vanishing of her tears.

She looked a mess.

I turn the tap on splashing my face, once, twice, three times. Once again looking in the mirror, some color had returned, her eyes looking more awake and her tear marks faded. However, still visible.

I slowly undid my nightgown letting it fall to the floor before slipping my feet from the slippers. I turn the shower on letting it warm a little while I grab my soap. This bathroom was different from my one at home. Well, Dad's house. Vincenzo's bathroom was more modern and expensive, and well, Dad's bathrooms looked basic and plain. The rain shower was big and open with a piece of glass stopping the water from running into the bathroom. Opposite the showerhead, was the drain. I walk around the large glass wall, stepping under the water.

Instantly, my body relaxed. I almost let a moan slip from my sore lips, yet I managed to stop myself. My body was no longer tense from the nightmare, it was relaxed and calm. I felt more refreshed as I opened the shampoo bottle pouring a fair amount onto my hand and massaging it into my scalp.

My mind surfaces last night, specifically on what Vincenzo said. I wasn't evil was I? I wouldn't hurt someone innocent, not again. I couldn't repeat my mistakes, nor could I forget them while being married to him. He will never let me forget, why should he? It was his sister I killed. Not purposely but the blood is on my hands. My soul will be stained forever, it's time I face that instead of cowering away like the frail girl I once was. I am the woman married to the devil who wants to break me. In order to avoid letting that happen, I must be strong.

Vincenzo Romano will not break me. Not if I have a say in it. He can try and he could well succeed but I should at least try.

I rinse the last of the shampoo from my hair before grabbing the conditioner and doing the same to my hair in an attempt to make it soft.