Page 5 of Requiem
No. No I don’t.
He’ll hurt me.
I choke on a breath, my body shaking as the walls seem to close in. “I’m not—” My voice breaks. “I’m not okay—”
But there’s no one there to hear it.
The words are swallowed by the silence pressing in. The only other sound is my uneven and shallow breathing. My chest feels heavy, like something is sitting on my lungs and refusing to fuckingmove.
I squeeze my eyes shut, doing my best to avoid the blurring shadows along the walls. And after a few beats, my eyes open slowly. They’re dragged toward the far side of the room like something is pulling them there. A dresser sits against the wall, and on it is something that makes my stomach drop.
The mask.
Him. Me.
It’s sitting there, propped up like it was placed carefully, facing the bed. My nails dig into the blankets as a cold, crawling sensation spreads down my spine. He’sstaringat me.
“No.” The word comes out hoarse, and I shake my head hard. “No, you’re not—”
My vision warps, its eyes darkening until they feel depthless. They’re too aware of all of my inner thoughts and demons. They know everything about me.
Hedoes.
“Stop looking at me.” My voice cracks, louder now.
The mask doesn’t move, but I know he can see everything we’ve done.
My hands twitch, fingers curling like they’re remembering the shape ofherthroat, the pressure, the—
“Shutup,”I snarl, even though he hasn’t said a word. “You don’t—” My chest tightens, breath hitching hard. “It’syourfault.” Spit flies from my mouth like I’m a feral animal.
A brutal stabbing pain hits me somewhere in my head.
“Alright,”I pant, wincing.
Herface.Hereyes.
The way it all changed the moment she realized I wasn’t going to stop.
“No!” My back hits the wall behind me as I try to get away from it.
From those horrible, staring eyes thatwon’t look away.
“What did you make medo?”I scream, panic clawing its way back up my throat. Choking,suffocatingme. I slam my head against the wall, stars bursting behind my eyes.
But the mask doesn’t move. He just sits there like some cruel, taunting asshole. He told me that I’d be okay if I let him take over. I did. And I’mstillhurting.
“You still don’t get it.”The voice slithers through my skull in a warped version of my own, rough and distorted.
“Leave me alone.” My voice cracks on the words.
The laugh that follows isn’t loud, but it seeps into my bones anyway.“I didn’t make you do anything, Jude.”
A pulse of nausea rolls through my stomach.
“I just stopped you from looking away. From running from what you are.”
My breath catches in my throat as something deep inside me splinters. “No.” The denial comes immediately, desperately. Because if he’s right, then none of this belongs to him.It belongs to me.
