Page 68 of Nemesync
He was going to break me all over again, and I welcomed it like the masochist I am. Because I deserve pain. I need pain to cleanse me, to purge my sins.
And who better than Elijah to do it?
I felt the urge for retribution, to be chastised, to experience misery and pain, but why do I need it?
Because you killed her. You should be in pain.
“Stop… stop thinking, Zanae,” I whisper to myself.
The fucking guilt, it’s always here, it never goes away.
And look what I do to myself to punish me for things I think I provoked.
The touch of the Devil’s lips on my neck felt like heaven, it felt like a sinful ecstasy. And I’m completely fucked up, broken, utterly damaged, because when he touched me, I’ve never felt more alive.
I’m furious, angry at myself for succumbing to a desire that defies any logic. Angry at Elijah for awakening something within me that I didn’t want to acknowledge.
You’re death itself Zanae.
They won’t stop in my head.
They never stop when I try tofeel.
When I arrived at the penthouse, I stared at my reflection for long minutes.
I have always been my own worst enemy.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” I desperately question my own image, looking back at me, begging me to stop the suffering, to stop the agony.
My mind became the draft of my own chaos; a reality where the man who despised me the most, pleasured me in his office after killing a man and the only thing I thought about was, what if I didn’t stop him?
A MAN IS DEAD BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO FEEL AGAIN.
They’re right, he died because Ifeltagain, with the wrong person.
After sending a text to Nikolai to inform him that I went back home in a taxi, I went back to the parking lot, took my car and went to the only place I wanted to be in, to talk to the only person I wanted to.
I went to the cemetery.
18
ZANAE
In the car, I feel my heart pounding just thinking about how much my loneliness makes me do stupid things like accept the attention of the man who hates me so much, just for me to not feel alone again.
I feel fucking bare, worthless, empty, and abandoned by my own soul.
Am I so stupid to think that there’s more about him?
This is not hatred, it can’t be. It’s not just my mind playing with me, right?
Maybe I feel pity for myself. For being isolated.Alone.
But what if I can’t live like this anymore?
The worst part of being a lonely soul is not wanting to be one.
You’re desperate, hoping that another soul is attached to yours.
