65
Logan’s P. O. V.
Her cries stung me, sang pain in my ears and the fears I never thought I was capable of feeling engulfed me as I strangled her. I strangled her because I saw how her face paled out.
I’m a monster. Yes, maybe my father was right after all and even she said it herself once. I’m a hopeless monster without hope of redemption. My demons are far bigger than me and there was no going back anymore. I have reached that point of no retreat.
When Layla’s hands fell off my forearm, I thought I’d lost her forever. That was when the fear happened. And I let her go instantly. Then she coughed water. I didn’t know what I was doing a split second ago and I couldn’t believe I would hurt a woman whom I loved simply because she didn’t want or love me back.
I let her drop to the floor and stepped back, cursing under my breath. I couldn’t believe I nearly killed the one woman I thought I was in love with. Was this love or hate?
I hurried out immediately, crossing Dani along the narrow hallway. I sped past him and into the elevator, banging it hard as soon as it set downwards. I wanted to scream because I was slowly losing my mind. If I could do that to a vulnerable woman, what else couldn’t I do?Content © NôvelDrama.Org.
I lit a cigarette as soon as I stepped into the hot afternoon, feeling my chest tightening. I hurried towards the meeting house where Astrid sat facing the door, reaching for his gun as soon as the door kicked open. He settles back down as he notices me, slightly nodding his head. I walked past him, angry about seeing him or anyone else in the room. I stood out dragging the smoke into my lungs, careless about it as a form of punishment for myself. It felt like the only way to ease myself of this rage and turmoil.
What have I done?
Layla’s P. O. V.
I’ve always delighted in the free fall between sleep and wakefulness. Those prescious few semi-conscious seconds before you open your eyes, when you catch yourself believing that your dreams might just be your reality. A moment of intense pleasure or pains, before your senses reboot and inform you who and where and what you are. For now, for just a second longer, I’m enjoying the self-medicated delusion that permits me to imagine that I could be anyone, I could be anywhere and I could be loved.
I stared into the mirror and couldn’t recognize myself anymore. I’d been happy for a short while. After gaining enough strength and picking myself up from the floor, I’d spent the next hour just watching my reflection on the mirror. My neck was bruised, almost looking like a hickey as I inspected it. Another tear rolled down my cheek as I further inspected my body. I was bruised in a couple of places.
I didn’t care. I was mostly disappointed in myself. How could I have done something as reckless as that? And now, Logan would never trust me again. I would again become his prisoner. He had treated me better than when I’d first arrived and I threw that away.
The afternoon seemed to drag along fastly, then the evening as the darkness outside casted over the glass walls of my room. I’d stopped crying a couple of hours ago, ran a shower over myself and changed from my torn clothes and wrapped myself in a towel.
I walked into my closet, wondering where Logan had gone, if he had left the house again. Would he still hit me if he had the chance, if he saw me?. But I didn’t wanna stand around wondering.
I made up my mind as I sat behind the mirror to have a talk with him. I knew Logan was upset. He wasn’t a bad person. He was good to me and I payed back by betraying him. The least I could do was thank him for not killing me. Antoniette and Dani had told me on several occasions that I meant something to Logan, that he may have taken a liking in me that proved my existence up till now after so many months. It was my turn to play my part.
I found myself pulling the draw where Beverly had packed the underwear she’d brought herself. I’d never bothered to check them because I knew I wasn’t going to be dressing up in them for Logan. As I picked out a white lacey lingerie and a bra that showed nearly half my breasts, I paid no attention to my drumming heartbeats.
I didn’t know what the need for this was but I was doing it. I sprayed my hair and brushed them spirally down my back and across my shoulders, throwing on a light maroon dress that stopped just above my knees, it’s straps hanging loosely off my shoulders.
I didn’t bother with shoes and instead just went out through the door and headed towards where I presumed Logan’s room was. When I reached his door, I tapped it a little and they slid open.
The first thing that caught my eyes were the shimmering bright light coming from a rose flower covered in snow and balled by a display cup glass. It was beautiful. It instantly reminded me of the beauty and the beast show.
The rose is set on the table set aside, a note scribbled on a white paper placed next to it. Like a magnetic pull, I walked over to this table and picked this flower lamp or whatever it’s name would be into my palms. It was captivating, nearly hypnotizing. It was a unique work of art, nothing I’d ever seen before or ever dreamed of seeing. Talk more of touching with my own hands.
I looked into the note on the table and read the words scribbled on it.