Page 108 of Deliria

A prison is built around every word.”

“They twist the key and lock the door,

What was mine is mine no more.

Echoes are calling, walls can speak,

And as the hunted hides, the strong grows weak.”

“A thread unravels, a tale is undone,

This song of silence is never sung.

Beware the mirror, for it tells no lies,

And see the truth now with vengeful eyes.”

Am I crazy now? Am I as mad as they tried to make me out to be?

My lips curl at the concept, perhaps I am. Perhaps I am beyond reason now, beyond morality too. They’ve carved out those pieces of my soul, torn them from my bones. The only parts left of me now clamour for blood, their blood.

I let out a cackle.

It’s manic. Fractured. It echoes off those high walls and those dark, oppressive portraits.

And then quick as a flash, I’m reaching out, lashing out, tearing through those crusty old canvases, stripping away those faces as if I’m murdering each and every one of Alexander’s ancestors. Destroying their essence, their memory, all of it.

Fuck you, Alexander. Fuck you.

Even if he does kill me, even if he does win, then this house will never be the same. This house will always carry the evidence of me, of what they did, and what I did in return.

No, if the Forster’s continue on, if they do prosper, then the ghost of me will drive them from this cursed place. I’ll force them out, I’ll claim this mausoleum of a home as my own and I’ll torment anyone who dares to exist here.

A slowly building hum reaches my ears. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, and something cold and deadly creeps up my spine.

He’s back.

My dear husband.

He’s flying back.

I must have barely minutes left, barely a few precious moments before I am once more rendered helpless, returned back to my neat little box.

I pick up my pace, climbing the stairs two at a time. As I round the corner, I come face to face with a maid. She stares at me in shock before she stumbles back, turns and runs off, clearly anxious to be there, ready for her master’s arrival.

I roll my eyes, cursing the precious time lost, and continue on to my room.

Inside the space is bare. I know this is not where my last round of torture took place. I know Alexander deliberately had me stored away somewhere Rafe would be unable to find me, but it’s still unnerving to look at that bed and know what horrors I have endured here.

Under the bed, I pull at the floorboards, yanking the wood up, and feel the splinters bite as they embed themselves under my nails.

The gun is gone. Vanished like it was never there to begin with.

Oh, I knew it would be.

But that was not what I was looking for. I reach in, far into the darkness as if I’m reaching into the very bowels of this building and I pull out the phone that’s been hidden this entire time. It’s dusty, dirty, but it comes to life with a glow as I push the on button.

There’s only one contact in this. One name that’s as fake as my marriage is. My thumbs shake as I type the message, as I try to hold my panic in.

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