XI - Lastly

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(Yes it's a twilight song, a very fitting one,
cancel me <3)

TW: Blood (little)

  I woke with my head soaking the wooden tiles in fresh blood

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  I woke with my head soaking the wooden tiles in fresh blood. Dread reached through my bones, making me moan heavy, my body feeling like a stone sunken to the bottom of the ocean. My palms lay flat against the floor, adding pressure, trying to get the rest of my muscles moving.
I heard my bones crack, my head falling back into my neck. God, I did fall from the bed when I lost balance.

I never got to grab the keys, nor make it out the door. The neighbor- I felt chills run down my spine.

Nothing had been real, it had all been a nightmare. Though wenn I stood up, my body giving up on me slowly, weakness overwhelming my thoughts - I knew something of it had been real.

Why don't you end yourself, little one.

I pushed the feeling away, the deep rooted fondness of despair. Instead I tried to heave my head up once more, but it felt heavy enough to crush me through the ground.
A quick yet painful glance at the watch told me that I overslept. My parents would come knocking at the door in minutes time.

And I was still laying spread out on the floor, bleeding from my head. I tried to control my breathing. Maybe I got a concussion. Did the nightmare make me this paralized? Could dreams bleed?

"Lolita?" A voice suddenly appeared right next to me, making me add pressure to my palms once more. It ended in obvious failure. It was as if I'd been glued to the tiles, almost making me have a breakdown before him for the thousandth time.

Before I could break apart, his arm was beneath me, holding on to my twisting and turning stomach. "Don't go too fast-" I whispered, making him go still.
"I might throw up." He seemed to listen, his movements getting slower, more careful.

"What happened? What did you do?"
What did you do? He held my neck in his hand, obviously feeling the crusted liquid beneath his fingers. He looked back at the smeared blood, his eyes wide. "Lolita,"
But he didn't speak any further, the terror written in his eyes. I tried to turn from him, but he wouldn't let me.
Morpheus carefully heaved me up in his arms, carrying me over to my bed. I shook my head, no. "The bathroom, I need to wash it away before my parents show up."
He silently nodded, carrying me over to the small bathroom. "Can you stand?" He asked me, trying to help with my balance as best as he could. I held on to his neck most of the time, trying to escape the mirror and its reflection. When I saw it, holding on to the rim of the sink, I almost cried out.

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 | 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora