Prologue
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Be prepared for mature themes: murder, minds slowly deteriorating, LGBTQ+ undertones, and a narrator who's anything but trustworthy.
A new chapter every Saturday.
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They all said I was overdramatic.That I had an imagination too big for my own good.That I made things up. But I knew this day would come.
It was inevitable.
My past was always going to haunt me.
That’s what the little voice in my head said. I think I knew this already it was my destiny the density I deserved. I was at the peak of my career success practically spilled out of me
My gallery was full it was always full.
Everyone worshipped me. I was like a god drunk on power. Everyone praised me, hooked on every word I uttered.
At least… that’s how I remember it.
The light above me was warm, illuminating my skin and casting a soft halo around me. It danced across everything I’d built. I was power itself, standing beside my exhibition.
My name hung above me Amelia Valentine in big, bold letters. Solo exhibition. Nobody prints your name that big unless you’re important… right?
I gently took a glass of wine from a nearby tray, drinking it slowly my high heels creating a soft clink on the hard wooden floor as i moved.
It burned the back of my throat the way I liked it.
The liquid courage helped.
I wore a tight black dress the kind that makes you feel taller, sharper. Made you feel alive like for once I was the main character My dress was adorned with pearls that clung to me like they belonged there. My dress wasn't overly tight but it was loose either it was just right. The pearls caught the light just right.
To me, they looked expensive. Priceless.
And really, that’s all that mattered.
The gallery hummed around me quiet conversations, soft laughter and clinking glasses. I took in the sheer opulences of the place soft foot steps place. The tables around being lined with food rare delicates that you dont find often. The table were round having a soft white table cloth
People admired my paintings… or so I thought. The
I caught someone staring. Their eyes flicked away when I met them anger, jealousy . Their eyes burnt into me If i had to choose what emotion I thought it was it was obviously.
Jealousy.
Who wouldn’t envy me?
A cold draft snuck through the gallery. It raised goosebumps on my arms, but I ignored it.
The wine had begun to dull the sharpness I hadn’t noticed building in my chest.
I was untouchable.
I was unstoppable.
Nothing could break me here.
So I didn’t question it when another glass of wine was placed in my hand feeling the cold glass press against my hand the blood red liquid swirling inside.
I didn’t look up.
Didn’t see who gave it to me.
Maybe I thought it was another fan, another admirer.
Maybe I didn’t care.
I drank it without hesitation my red lips pressing against the glass softly leaving a lipstick stain.
And that’s when the heat started.
Not warmth fire.
In my throat. In my chest. In my heart.
It felt like I was burning from the inside out i let out a violent cough.
The glass slipped from my long fingers.
It shattered at my feet, and still, no one moved.
The room tilted. The light flickered.
Voices blurred into static.
I collapsed.
And as my vision narrowed, I saw them.
Standing just beyond the crowd.No tray. No wine. No expression of concern.
Just watching.
Calm.
Still.
Like they’d waited years for this.
The person I had hurt the most.
The one I’d forgotten.
Or maybe just tried to forget.
They smiled. Wide. Too wide.
And in that smile, I remembered everything.
The dorm.
The sketchbook.
The warnings from friends.
The things I should have listened to.
But by then, it was already too late. The world around was black and i was due to be in my grave
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TBC
