Betrayal--pt. 2When I woke up, the sky beyond the windows had turned a dark purple, the sun already resting beyond the mountains, outlining the snowcapped peaks with a golden thread. Ryushi was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear his heavy breathing in the bedroom we shared. He must still be exhausted from beating me…
I shook my head, stopping as a painful throb pulsed up a nerve in my neck. A headache on top of everything else—wonderful, perfect.
Perfect. This morning I believed that there was such a concept. Foolishly, naively, I believed that with Ryushi, everything was perfect and always would be, as long as I had him.
I stood slowly, tentatively from the couch—couch? How'd I get on the couch?—the thought registering vaguely in my mind as I folded my arms across my stomach, doubling over slightly to appease my abused diaphragm. My body moved stiffly, mechanically, every sort of tissue in protest; I took shuffling steps towards the single bedroom in the a
Pain. It took a while for his order to register beyond it.
Everything hurt. Even his mockingly gentle caress on my cheek stung, bit deep into my flesh—I imagined myself screaming, shouting insults at him and maybe throwing a punch or two—but I could do neither. My wrists burned as they twisted, trying to get free, shoulder muscles exhausted from being held in one place for so long; what energy he hadn't stolen from me was channeled into resisting him.
What hurt more than anything, though, was the fact that this morning before he left for work, he had told me he loved me—and now he was denying that claim, repealing his affections for me for a reason of which I didn't know. Something had happened at work, I knew that much; but when I tried to find out the details, he had thrown me to the floor, and…
What did I do…?
I wanted to ask why, but the only sounds that came from my wide open mouth were hoarse cries of anguish.
Alternatively white and black spots flashed in my visio
Lost Angel--Part TwoMy shout strained away into a wretched cry, punctuated by disbelieving hiccoughs and my gasps for breath. A sick feeling gripped my gut, clenching and unclenching my stomach. Slowly, I opened my empty fists, tilting my tear-blurred gaze to the heavens ablaze with deep yellow and orange-reddish cotton balls.
"You promised," I muttered to myself, a stinging salty liquid wetting my parched lips. "You said you'd never leave me…"
I turned to retch, wheezing dryly, wiping my mouth roughly with my torn sleeve. Ashion couldn't be dead. He couldn't.
A scorched wind staggered weakly over the mounds of rotting bodies, lifting my hair limply and tossing it across my tear, sweat, and blood-streaked face before moving on to examine the rest of the carnage.
Resolutely I stood, hands balled into fists at my side. I turned my head, looking around at a valley that had stretched green to the horizon before this morning. A glint of white in the far corner of my eye caught my interest, and kneeling, I took