Chapter 1
On the Writing of the Insane
If all the skies in Heaven, and the flames of Hell aligned, it would create a stunning catastrophe that mirrors the love I have for Lucifer.
I never expected to end up here. But I guess, at the end of the day that’s what life is. The unexpected. The unpredictable and the most ridiculous adventure we could ever go on.
I found a love that people would kill for, a love that consumed me, left me breathless and yearning for more. Alas, it was not meant to be. The love that people would kill for… killed others instead. Took lives in the most brutal manner. It left me reeling and questioning. I was hoping if you could answer. Here comes the question:
Was a love like this worth my sanity?
Fear not death; for it’s a reflection of the lives we have lived. A bitter one.
She gazed out the night sky. She could not see the stars that Van Gogh had passionately painted, neither the moon that inspired Sir Philip Sidney to weep about. Those were lies. Pretty, pretty lies. All she saw was the vast of black emptiness, mocking her own. The stars were outshined in shame when they saw the dangerous glint in her eyes.
Her eyes.
They were something of a fantasy. It was part of what drew Mark in. They were a stark contrast to her raven hair.
‘Those icy darts pierced my hearts, and here I am stuck with you now.’
She smiled at the memory. He would have been gone by now. Taken.
Killed.
By him.
‘I am at peace’, she whispered.
She looked over her pale shoulder to see a throng of people coming her way, to stop her. Her eyes grew wide with unprecedented fear.
She couldn’t stop now, she was at peace. She smiled to herself and sucked in her last breath, filling her lungs and then she jumped.
She fell with memories clouding her blurred vision along with her tears falling freely as she was.
THUD.
Blood pooled around her, a stampede of people ran to see the dead body that was so unceremoniously sprawled on the cold cement path, now stained with her death.
She sat up in her bed, her sheets soaked in her sweat. Her heart beat like a stallion in the fields. She looked around her surroundings to see where she was. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was in her room. She pushed her black hair off her forehead, where they were stuck.
After much coaxing, she puts herself to sleep, telling herself that it was just a nightmare.
It wasn’t long after her nightly assault by her dreams that she had awoken. It was quite early, but she had work. She didn’t bother to set an alarm, her body was already attuned to the rising of the sun. She drew her curtains back to reveal an icy winter sun of New York, the soft rays of golden prying open her eyes and making their way into her room.
She heard the scuttle of small feet below her in the kitchen. She smiled softly. After dressing in her usual attire of work, she made her way down the stairs.
‘About time you showed up’. She could hear the smirk in her voice.
‘I was up’, she answered back.
The middle aged woman hustled and bustled about the kitchenette, preparing her favorite breakfast.
‘Pipin’ hot’. She sat a plat of eggs and bacon in front of her.
‘You are a godsend’, she mumbled and she dug into her plate. The woman joined her and watched her eat. Her hair was tied in a professional knot, but her eyes were dull and lifeless.
‘You remind me a lot of her’, the woman said.
Her eyes snapped up and met with her wispy ones.
‘I don’t wanna start my day with her’, she snapped and went to search for her keys.
‘I’ll see you later, Ava’, she said to her as she slammed the door behind her. She could hear her heels clicking into the cement as she started her car and drove off.
Ava sighed. She noticed how her eyes looked, they mirrored an emptiness she had seen before.
