(⚠️WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY TRIGGER YOUR ANXIETY/DEPRESSION/PANIC DISORDER⚠️)
"Thank God you're stupider than me. I thought I was the most dimwitted person on earth." I laughed mockingly and wiped my tears. "Do you really think you can shove that lie at me? You did me wrong and you still had the fvcking audacity to turn the tables to put the blame on me? Cut that shit and, for once, act like a man!" I screamed and pushed him hard on his chest.
He stepped back; it was as if he had no strength to fight my force. He looked lost. He just bowed and seemed to have lost the will to speak any more.
"You are so shameless to accuse me of cheating! You're so shameless to make up a story even though we all know the truth! Damn it, what kind of person are you? Are you even human?" I bit my lower lip to suppress my sobs. "Are you really like this? Are you all really like this? You're going to force me to swallow all your shitness. Fvck you, you killed my child! Our child! At least have a little shame and remorse!"
His palms were clenched, and he slowly raised his eyes towards me. I wanted to laugh when his tears fell little by little. He didn't speak; he just stared at me as if memorizing every pain that was posted on my face.
I smiled bitterly. "What? Have you run out of lies? Have you run out of fake scenarios to feed into my brain?"
He shook his head weakly. "I-I . . . didn't kill our baby," he barely managed to say.
Countless times, I slapped him again. His cheeks are already red because of my slap, but I don't care. If only I could have killed him this time, I would have. I burst into tears again, not because of the pain but because of the intense anger that was running through my body.
I crossed our small distance and firmly held his jaw, staring at him intently. "I. Fvcking. Swear. Zachary," I emphasized each word. "I will destroy you, and I will make sure that you can never tell another lie again."
He didn't try to let go of my grip, even though my nails almost dug into his skin. His eyes just flickered with pain, as if he were struggling to watch me. I carelessly let go of him and then turned away without saying a word. I walked back to my car and got in. I looked at him for a moment; he was still standing, not moving. He was like a lost child who was dumbfounded by nothingness.
His acting is so good, I would have thought he had dissociative identity disorder. I just shook my head and laughed a little before starting my car. He had the courage to pretend in front of me as if I didn't see their sh*t by myself.
I bit my lower lip when I remembered my father. I don't know what hurts more. Was it that he didn't believe me then and didn't support me, or was it the fact that he was one of the people who killed my child? I thought he was just fooled by Eunice and Aunt Ayna's lies, but all this time he was really involved.
I tried to think about what I had done to him. Maybe I'm not the daughter he can be proud of, but all my life, I've tried to be a good daughter to him. I studied well. I followed his orders. I got along with his new family even though I was often hurt because I felt like I was just pushing myself at them. I swallowed it all.
Aunt Ayna. Yes, I may have held a grudge against her, but in the entire time we were together in the mansion, I never showed anything to anger her. I tried to accept that she was really my father's choice. That maybe Daddy needs her more. I didn't cut her off from anything I heard from her. Is that still not enough?
Eunice. Maybe her mother and I are not the same, and we are not like other siblings who are very close to each other, but I never fought with her. I considered her a sister. I tolerated our father's attention and love. I adjusted to the times when I felt she wanted just the three of them together. Vacations, eating meals, and more. I did everything for them.
Zachary. I never cheated on him. All ways of feeling love I did. I did not fail to give assurance. I have been a good and understanding partner. I didn't choke him or object to what he wanted to do. I wasn't the one who came to him to have a relationship; he was the one who showed the motive to me and courted me. So why? Why did he play with me?
I am the one who is gradually exhausted. I came down for them all. But why did they still do this to me?
AUNT Victoria immediately welcomed me when I got home. There was a trace of concern on her face when she noticed that I was wet, but I didn't pay her any attention, even though she asked me several questions. I know that's rude, but I'm too worn out to talk to anyone right now. I just walked past her. I'm so numb that I can't even feel my movements anymore.
I headed to our room after climbing the stairs. My pet kitty came running to me right away, but I was unable to concentrate on her. I simply grabbed a pair of clothes from the cabinet, left the room once more, and went to the bathroom.
I'm like a robot that moves on its own. Every time I pour water on my body, the memories from the mansion come back. I wanted to cry again and scream, but it seems that I have tired myself.
I don't know how many minutes I showered for. When I finished, I went back to the room and stupidly combed my hair while sitting on the edge of the bed. Angel tried to play with me, but I still ignored her. I felt like I was in a dream, and everything around me seemed unreal. It's like I'm being pulled between illusion and reality.
I absentmindedly stood up and put the comb back inside the drawer of the bedside table, but before I could close it, a pair of scissors caught my attention. I took it and stared at it for a while. Later, I separated the blade and placed a part on my wrist. I pressed the scissors too hard against my skin and then slowly pulled it. One, two, Three. I cut myself three times.
My chest immediately heaved as my blood flowed nonstop. I just watched it while I felt my breath tightening. I smiled bitterly. As it normally happens to me whenever I see blood, the scene from the past consumed me again. My vision blurred and spun. The image of me on the floor, hugging the blood I had lost—my baby—returned. My begging, my sobs, and my pleas.
Angelei. . .
I'm sorry, my baby, if I wasn't able to protect you.