Fall apart
The solemn voices of the priest floated funeral, dispersing in the air. That was not the reality, could not really be reality. It seemed just a nightmare incorporeal and gloomy, a relentless mixture of senseless fears that lay in the scary depths of his heart.
That scene could not be nothing but a dream from which sooner or later would be awakened. Yes, that was definitely the case. Yet he was aware that this was nothing but the pure truth, a threatening reality that had again dragged him on the brink of a ravine.
He was a fool, an empty person who even once life had torn everything, yet he did not feel anything. Completely empty.
Only he weighed heavy on his chest, ran through his whole body up to terrified but felt nothing. Not a single tear streamed down her face. A dark presence had broken away all traces of emotion, forcing him to once again embrace her only companion: the loneliness.
He was a monster.
He just wanted to try something, any emotion just to remember what it meant to suffer. But everything around him had no meaning, everything looked so fuzzy and far away, without any contours. Formless, no flavor, no nothing.
There was only the denser gray and smoky, too similar to black.
Frost and ice tore his helpless heart still pounding in his chest, the only sign that made him sense that he was still alive. It seemed that someone had ripped a limb, reducing his spirit into fine shreds impalpable.
It was just a miserable heap of flesh and bones rotten and putrid, acrid taste of death teased her mouth, crawling like an insidious snake in the bowels, chipping and tearing each wall with poison, tearing up the valley of tears that undermined his heart .
Yuri's eyes had ceased to live, they were completely dead and expressionless. Glassy. A soulless spectrum and full of explosive and deadly pain.
Every movement was slow, punctuated by seedy mechanism of his brain. A mere soulless automaton. He winced as his hands dug into the ground; a dark emptiness pierced passionately throughout her body, covering every centimeter of her body, shaking dall'insano torpor in which he had lived until then.
Why? Why Sonja had killed herself? Why?
Question after question kept coming into his mind, simple sentences were dragged into the storm, tall and deadly waves crashing against the hard rocks of reality more and more unattainable.
Put yet another mask, pretending that nothing was more important. Yet Yuri could feel it.
He felt the suffocating weight of life crush his belly as he crawled inside his body, centimeter by centimeter, until it reaches the lungs. Sharp claws digging his flesh, stabbing her lungs, snatching her breath.
The heart still, wrapped again by frost, while new land slid again on the coffin, but Yuri continued to drown in the dark, lying on the bottom, pleading not to return to the surface.
Her. Sonja.
That name echoed in his mind like poison.
Her. Sonja. She who had been his family had destroyed two lives, dragging into the abyss of death even Yuri, killing the good that he still had. She had given him, no enemy on which to vent his anger. Nothing.
The image of the torn body was on his mind, completely indelible, yet he could not accept that he lost again.
Forever.
Hesitant Julia shook his hand. He wanted to be like her, feel emotions. Yuri wanted to scream, to destroy something, but instead he stood there, motionless, with glazed eyes and a heavy heart.
There were only he and his frost.
Leaving to the pain, let go to the darkest thoughts would not be served to wash the guilt that pierced his spirit. Memories, phrases, moments lost in time shined his mind. It was a constant torture that accompany hee days, joining the certainty that she would never have let her go; Boris knew that if he put aside his pride Sonja would still be alive.
He, like everyone, gave way in the sadistic need to relive bitter memories, it was impossible and unthinkable the acrid truth and bad against whom fate had made him slam. It was an impalpable turn that seemed to have left no trace.
The way he had undertaken up to that point had been severed into many tiny intersections that had stopped intersection between values, generating a case devoid of logic and order, losing the tracks.
Boris was like a runaway train, totally in jeopardy. Involuntarily was giving way to pain, staining of a crime that should never have run. Even when his eyes rested on the ocean just dyed red served to give him peace, losing himself in the delicate colors in his mind they seemed darker and liquid, red.
Red as blood like Sonja's hair, pale as her snow-white and pale skin.
The slight breeze lifted slightly, gently touching his skin, while thin danced in the sand grains, clashing against his face. Yet Boris did not move, paralyzed in the inner emptiness that had enveloped his mind, turning his irises on the hands.
Suddenly they became filthy, smeared with the blood of his wife. The breathing became slow and labored, it seemed like a thousand sharp pins were penetrating his flesh, piercing his lungs.
He wanted to scream but his throat was parched, it seemed that the tongue refuses to move, making it the slave of his own body, reviewing again the mangled body of his wife with a knife stuck deep in his chest. He closed his eyes, determined to cancellere that flash, then fall to the ground, letting the knees were sinking in the sand, bending his torso forward.
He clenched his hands into fists, letting the soft sand slip between his fingers, biting his lips strongly, in an attempt to hold back the tears. He did not want to let go the torment of bad and naughty feelings.
Once, twice, three. A volley of punches hit the ground hard, creating in turn a deeper groove. He felt an incredible pain as minor cuts and scratches began to hold his hand more and more dirty.
And finally let out a piercing scream and destructive; a cry of pure pain, wild and unstable, which went through her whole body, reducing the fragment that was left of his soul.
A gentle hand accompanied by a soft shot circled her shoulders and for the first time Boris gave in, clinging to the woman in the animalistic way. «I know it hurts, I know»
Boris knew too well the kind and motherly voice so frail and trembling.
«Victoria, you should get your dicks for once»
Eveline narrowed her eyes to slits, dropping his arms to his sides. Until then had only speculated on the possible reactions of the boy, she decided to tempt fate, imagining in her beautiful dream.
She saw the whole thing so much to experience the same pain him, because she, like Boris, she knew she was the indirect murder of Sonja. «I'll do it my own way, definitely» she said eagerly, facing the man with sorrowful eyes before her. «But first let me tell you something: you did not kill her».
The eyes of the Russian for a moment seemed to inject blood, eagerly grabbing and clutching the wrist of the blonde, while his body was being shaken by icy chills that crossed across his back. «I have left! I killed her! I. I was I who allow her to take her own life, I. Not you».
A slight tingle went through the hand of the designer, who abruptly tried to escape from the grip. The growing anger filled the pit of her stomach. Eveline feel used and flogged by the one who tormented her days and nights.
Her free hand snapped up, crashing against Boris's cheek up to him turning his head, giving him one flamboyant look of pure hatred.
Their breath seemed to get stuck again when their eyes meet, both unable to utter a word.
«I thought you were not capable of this» Boris exhaled with a defiant, ignoring the taste of blood that was flooding his mouth. It was the first time that Eveline reacted that way so direct and absurd. That slap seemed to have dragged back to reality, leaving leaked a little sound clarity among the dark maze of his twisted mind.
Eveline smiled slightly, turning a simple gesture in a mocking grin. «You underestimate me too often. I was the first to be honest with you, the first who revealed to you who I am and my moods, and you know what? I'm fool. I thought that you too you trusted me and instead you're fine alone. Please, go ahead to destroy you alone».
Wearily she looked down. She would never let him see her cry because of him and the words she would never have wanted to say, so much to understand only after a few moments that Boris had let go of her wrist, then turned back to the sea.
«Sonja has always been part of me for a long time, I loved her very much. We promised to continue to be there even though it was over between us and instead ...» A bitter tear gleamed across the face of Boris, while his lips had begun to tremble.
Say that sentence out loud was a punch in the stomach, had made everything more real ... painful. It hurt to know the truth, making real a thought that hitherto had only howled in his mind, pulling from his chest the joy of the past.
Victoria let out a soft whisper, fighting the tears that stung her eyes. «I am the last person who should mourn the death of Sonja. She was a friend of mine and I betrayed her coming to bed with you, and yet I did really well and ... I am suffering even» with a fast turned to Boris, not caring of her face transfigured by grief and guilt. «It's really wrong what there was between us?».
Huznestov swallowed, lowering his eyes to slits. Instinctively he grabbed the stylist for the hips, leaving dominated by animal instincts, kissed aggressively her lips. Abruptly, while maintaining firm grip on his hips, he gave her a serious look, starting to speak in a tone that brooked no argument. «It will be wrong as long as we continue to see it that way, it is wrong because she is dead but it's really a wrong thing that is good for both?».
Eveline uncertain knitted her eyebrows, fingering his arms. «Are you talking about Sex? ».
«Even that. Obvious».
«You suck» she replied angrily, looking at him with hatred. «It is wrong, however. It is wrong to start a relationship now, especially knowing that I have a boyfriend».
Boris let out a coarse laugh and mocking, and then mention a sadistic grin. «And you remember now?».
«No, Huznestov» replied Victoria dry. Pure irritation made her shudder the body. She never would have expected a shot so mean to him. She felt hurt and offended by that statement, much wanting to go away. «That's exactly why we need time and reflect».
Those words so simple had shaken a part of the heart that he had forgotten to have. He felt a sense of perdition to dig into his chest, feeling pain when the body Eveline escaped from his arms. Yet this was a different emotion, a pain far from the consciousness of having lost part yes, but it was still bad enough to feel alive and gasping for life.
«See you soon, Huznestov». A bitter smile was painted on the lips of Eveline, and then rise up on their toes, placing a chaste kiss on the boy's lips.
«Bye, seamstress» he replied blankly, grateful for the tender act of love that both of them were granted.
Eléna had always set not to show her emotions, trying to keep a straight face in front of that life, forgetting herself and who she was. She had collected all the feelings and the few joys she had known, locked them in a secret coffer. She had forgotten to be human.
It was strange turn in the house and not to meet her sister. Each wall of the damn apartment too big exuded pain, impressing the pain of tortured memories from death. She had become a soulless empty chest that continued to lie, acts the party who is choking.
Her hands resting on the sink were shaking as she stared at the water that slowly slipped on the ceramic. Elena had the courage to look at her reflection in the mirror because she knew that if she would have done would have again met those eyes ... Sonja's eyes.
She knew she would rincontrata still a fictitious reflection of her own image. Elena wanted to grab her face, scratching it up to spoil all the details that made her look like her, as her eyes wandered to the scissors she had hidden in the bathroom.
A lone chill blows the soul, while her hands together collected water, rinse slowly tired of those endless days, until, slowly, looked up on the transparent surface, covering her mouth with one hand.
She must not give in to the pain, suppressing a sob. It hurts. It was so damn bad repress the pain of crying. Something had just snapped, breaking the seal that had built with time and effort.
She held her breath for an indefinite moment, grabbing the scissors. It was crazy what was going to do it alone, but Elena needed it, she just had to learn to pretend ... if only it were not so complicated. Uncertain, she slid a lock of hair blacks in her fingers, breathing hard.
The girl narrowed her eyes, closing the scissors on the small portion of hair that, within seconds, fell into the sink. Slowly yet she repeated the gesture, strand after strand, mutilating detail that envied Sonja, until the white pottery was completely covered with a part of her.
Sometimes she had the feeling of being almost an intruder in that life so strange and normal. The days of the fight against Alexander and imprisonment in a while it seemed to be just a memory, other days, however, the memories knocking unperturbed against her door, locking it in days of silence and pain.
Yet, slowly, Elena began to feel the flavor of the return to life. She felt a strange glare grow in her stomach, scared by the fact that during the engagement party of Yuri would have to see Crystal constantly attached to Kei's arm.
Repeatedly she blinked, confused by that irritating thought. "Am I jealous?".
She? Jealous? No, it was impossible.
She ran her fingers nervously through her hair that reached just below her shoulders, puffing impatiently. She had never cared of her appearance and had no intention to give it weight, and yet she wanted to do something to be noticed by him.
After all she was human, and only wished that he could see it for what it really was. A woman. The number one. The only person worthy to stand by him in all, the only one who could stand up to him and not a rag doll that he can use.
Suddenly, the click of the door made her jump, woke up from her thoughts.
«I finally found you». Sonja smiled sweetly to her sister, moving a few steps toward her sister. «Do you need an help?».
Elèna gave her an annoyed look, and let her eyes wander over long hair tawny leaves perfectly. The envy crept into her chest, while her lips are painted a fake smile. Why could she not to be like her?. «No thanks. Unfortunately I do not like you».
Sonja giggled, surprised by that reaction that just suited to her sister, ignoring the look of pure hatred that the minor had given her. «Elèna, I'm not perfect. Nobody is. So tell me: what is the problem?»..
The cheeks of the nineteen brushed a bright red that deviated from his usual colorful niveo such as ceramics. «I just wish someone would notice me».
Without a word Sonja pulled back a stool, pointing to the young to sit. «You are beautiful, you do not need to pretend to change for someone»
In an instant the name of Kei drew in her mind and her heart skipped a beat, squeezing hard the soft fabric of her skirt. «I wish I had your hair. I envy you for that».
«You can always make up» said Sonja with a gentle voice with a slight mocking note in her voice. «Let them grow up it and now no more talk, it's time to prepare for our brother»
Elèna's lips moved in a subtle graces, to be serene again in the arms of her sister, after all this time.
She gasped for several seconds swallowing hard, shocked by the memory that had suddenly attacked. Elèna felt distraught and overwhelmed, falling into the abyss of repetitions that for too long had disguised.
A strange burning sensation as the fire had branched across her body, an electric shock had turned on her fighting spirit, ready to have a rematch to her life. She dabbed her temples vigorously, twirling her fingertips.
She would have her cruel revenge in the most ruthless way she knew how, while her glacial eyes looked at her reflection with a sick and dangerous grin. Pure hatred transfigured her face. It was the killer without emotions that Alexander had taught her to be, still enjoying once for the death of the enemy.
Coarse laughter escaped from her lips, filling them ears. Elèna would find those who had destroyed and stolen her sister's life at any cost, ready to sacrifice everything again.
Nothing made sense, even that fake murder.
Elena picked up a brush from her beauty case, again by rigging her black hair, still mulling over her thoughts troubled.
It was absurd. Quite absurd. Sonja would never have taken her own life, not after she had returned her belongings. She had to dismiss the thought that iced her blood and it would not stop until she tortured and ripped the life her sister; there had to be a culprit.
She picked up her scarlet red lipstick, eyes fixed on the stick that she had abandoned for too long, by passing a generous passed on the lips, and then look in the mirror with a smug look murderess.
The real Elèna was back.
His gaze was empty, expressionless complemente. He was afraid of himself, afraid of falling into limbo in which he had buried for too long, but for once had the need to let go of the negative, but not a single tear streamed down his face.
It hurt to be sure not to try anything after days after the funeral, when he saw a shadow through the crack in the door. Yuri pretended not to notice, continuing to maintain the vigilant eye on the mysterious figure.
«It's bad manners to spy»
The voice of Elèna would recognize among a thousand, but had not given any effect.
Elena gave a faint wry smile, stiffening her position. «I could say the same» and at the precise moment when uttered that phrase, Elèna made entry into the living room, showing a distant and far away.
It was disturbing to see her again in those clothes so bleak, almost terrifying. Again he felt a strange sensation to dig into the bowels of his chest, feeling the chill creeping poison in its skin.
Yuri had also lost her.
«Are you going to stare at me again?» She hissed apathetic, breaking the deafening sound of silence. She did not miss the haughty expression Yuri had given her, and yet she do not feel anything.
The boy slowly got up from the couch, catching up with stealthy step sister. Their eyes struggled for several seconds, challenging each other, when unexpectedly Yuri outstretched arms toward Elèna, hugging her tightly against his chest, drowning in her scent. «I lost my sister». Unwittingly I surrender to the wept.
Elèna's lips began to tremble, shaken by grief that had hit like a runaway train. «I lost my sister, too» she whispered in a broken voice, while her heart was reduced to shreds, and broke down. «I lost my sister too».
Neither he would have imagined that it would be all it takes to fall, destroyed by emotions never buried, swallowing the words and choking guilt, remaining united in the fact that embrace of love, joining their tears.
Both were returned there, at the scene. It was very strange to open that door and immaculate without the smell of death that had invested them a few days before. For a brief moment Kei and Julia had believed that before their eyes would again battered corpse of their friend.
Their silent glances were patrolling every centimeter of the room unrecognizable, covered with white sheets that covered every surface. They knew they had to be careful as they sought clues, since neither of them believed to suicide.
The determination shone in their eyes, burying the vivid pain in them. They knew too many things they could not match the reality, confident that someone wanted to lead them astray.
Julia came to the point where they had found the body and a chill wrapped the body, while the threatening pain tears gushing again. Crawled to the bed, when a long red thread caught her attention. With gloved fingers lifted the hair, being careful not to tamper with evidence. «It looks clean. Have you found something?».
Kei winced, again summarizing his apathetic mask. «No, for now nothing ... except for this strange dust». A thousand questions tormented his mind, turning a confused look toward his colleague. Doubts twisted urged him to doubt of all, unable to believe the words that were repeated for days.
The discovery that he had made that morning had aroused in him a voracious sense of anguish and fear, more and more certain that all roads led to several responses that persisted in wanting to confess, especially the last secret, the most important; what he would change everything.
Julia frowned, reaching the door. Her hands roamed over the entire surface, and yet continued to be exasperated. It was definitely absurd to accept the reality but the crime scene seemed to be too similar to a suicide behind the closed door. There were no holes or pieces out of place, but with the torch she was examining the hinges. «What could be to dust?».
«You think I can know without a chemical analysis?» said Kei with a derisive tone and deliberately irritating voice, illuminating with light the face of Julia, moving it from that location.
Suddenly his eyes widened when a tiny yarn iron scrap fell from a hole. Kei smirked, opening the door.
Carefully he examined the hole that still contained a trace metal. «Now I understand everything. We can go».
Space author : I'm sorry , I'm so sorry for the delay but this chapter for me it was really hard to write , partly because there is so much of that pain from being forced to stop me not to cry and it's so strange. Ie , it is gorgeous excited for something that is only in my mind , however , in here , I think there's something more . Or rather , I believe that this is in my best stories for what I'm trying to say , maybe I'll be presumptuous to tell me these things by myself but my story , now , it is part of me and it is sad to know that they are almost at the end and for this reason I think for a little while I will concentrate only on this story , I want to have an end with a bang , even if they are being written to the other two and thank you for letting me an opinion in the previous chapter . Thanks Alex and Midnight sins , thank you. I love you! And thanks to the silent readers , I'd love to hear your feedback