13
I’d always thought that dying would be easy, but in reality, it was surprisingly difficult. The paring knife wasn’t as sharp as I’d hoped, and thanks to quick intervention, I was saved once again.
My repeated attempts finally made Adrian realize I wasn’t just putting on a show to get attention. His solution? He locked me up. I couldn’t open the doors, the windows were sealed tight, and even the furniture edges were rounded off. I sat on the bed, kicking myself for not using something sharper.
Night fell, and I still couldn’t sleep. Lying on my side, I stared at the window, calculating my odds of breaking through it to escape. Then, the door creaked open, shattering the silence. Footsteps drew closer, stopping by the bed. The covers lifted, and someone slid in beside me, wrapping his arms around me. He leaned his head against my back, his voice barely a whisper, his tone broken.
“Vanessa…” he murmured.
11:12 AM
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0
“You used to smile so much. Why are you like this now?” His voice wavered, tinged with confusion, but then he inhaled sharply and spoke with a forced certainty.
“You’re lying, aren’t you? You’re just pretending to be sick…you still love me. You must.”
I nearly laughed at the self–delusion in his voice. And, in fact, I did.
