Angel Of Dawn

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Blaire 》

"Oh god." I choke on my own words. "She's dead, isn't she? Oh god. I'm next, aren't I? I won't see that future I was so optimistic about. Oh what was I thinking? Of course I won't die peacefully." At this point, I'm whispering to myself, trying to keep myself company. Although I could barely hear my own voice, I still attempt to speak for my own sake.

It's hoarse and rough. But I'll take throat pain and no voice any day if it means not being taped silent.

My tears reform as I remember what I said to him, how I hurt him. I might die and I won't be able to see him again. And the gash I left inside of him may never be repaired. My large one won't be if I don't outlive it. His words are the harshest I'd heard, especially when i knew they were nothing like him. But I can't help but to wish i was with him and Orlando right now. Being in this dark, cold and creepy basement all alone and scared really made me see how things could always get much worse. I'd rather be with him and his stupid, idiotic mouth than be here, with a broken leg, slashed back, raw wrists and headaches.

I'm sure there's some stuff I overlooked but there's too many to count.

I don't want to die with a heavy heart while hating him, he doesn't deserve knowing I died upset with him. He might not know I forgave him, but I will know I forgave him before my death because it won't hurt anymore. I'm thinking too much about my death.

I'm not thinking of Levi enough. He's like my numbing cream, making me forget all my troubles. He's my favourite ointment from now on.

I'd give everything to be in his arms right now. Right after punching his nose off and kicking him where the sun don't shine for what he said.

For making me feel no bigger than a grain of salt, if not smaller. Shame I've never felt before. Being judged by the one person I confided in the most, without even seeing the rest of the story. He only saw a quarter and that was what he judged me off of. But my life is full of nothing but pain, heartache, longing and shame.

I don't know what it is. Whether it's the absence of adrenaline of the abundance of it, but I feel sick. Knowing that Axella's above me, screaming for help and I can't do a single thing to help the poor thing. I feel numb to any emotion except fright.

I see something block the sun ray from the window, causing me to look at the window desperately. Only I don't see anyone.

"Hello?" I shout, though I sound like a grandpa who's been smoking for seventy years nonstop.

Someone crouches down and I almost cry in relief. I say almost because when I see long auburn hair dangling in front of me, I suppress the cry of exhausted.

It's her.

She gives me a smile -showing her very, very white teeth in doing so- while looking through the window. "Well well, it speaks, though I can tell you lost your voice. Poor thing."

I lost my voice?! How didn't I notice earlier?

Buckle up, fellas. She's a smart one.

I feel like a hamster with its owner checking if it's still alive.

Think about it, the only difference in this situation, is that I'm not a hamster.

I might as well be a laboratory rat.

I'm not sure she can see inside, because she's blocking the sun from lighting the place.

I feel a little better knowing she can't see me right now.

She already heard me shout, so there's no need to pretend I'm passed out. "What do you want from me?" I cry, not only for my sake, but for Axella's, too. Her daughter. I think.