Chapter 22: ★Is she dead?★

    ~Chapter 22~

    Quickly, finishing up all my tasks, from discarding his clothes to running back to the kitchen to help wash the dishes. My hands move mechanically, exhaustion weighing down on me.

    After rushing like a mad dog, I retreated to my room, eager to wash away the day’s horrors. The warm bathwater was much needed as it enveloped me, soothing my bruised skin and calming my frazzled nerves.

    I hurriedly freshened up before, dressing into the few simple clothes Miss Stella had provided, feeling grateful to her. She was the only person in this oppressive household who showed me kindness. I needed to check on her and crash down in her room for the night.

    My eyelids dropped ever so slightly as I trudged towards Miss Stella’s room, my legs heavy with fatigue.

    Turning through the maze called hallways and towards the stairs, I almost stumbled, sleepwalking. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, my heart stopped dead.

    The last person I wanted to see ~Well, not the last, Mr Salvatore was the last

    .~ stood before me, her eyes blazing with so much hatred.

    This witch’s face was twisted into a scowl, matching towards me, her features distorted by malice.

    Her clothes ~can’t even call that a cloth~ were equally disturbing. The flimsy nightdress, if it could be called that, left little to the imagination.

    I could clearly see her tits that were pushing up towards her throat. Her ample bosom almost getting bigger than her head. The sheer fabric defied gravity, barely leaving anything to imagination.

    I wasn’t up for this show, and definitely wasn’t in the mood for this confrontation, with how exhausted and drained I am from the day’s events. I averted my gaze, uncomfortable with her explicit display of curves.

    Attempting to move forward, ignoring her presence, but she wouldn’t let me pass without a fight. Her bony fingers grasped my hair, yanking it with such force that I feared it would be pulled out from the roots. "You stinking prostitute," she spat, literally into my ear.

    I only knew this bitch today

    Wincing, pain shooting through my scalp as she twisted my hair, her grip relentless. My mouth shaking from not cursing out at her that she’s the one dressed as a prostitute.

    Tears welled up, stinging my eyes from the agony as I tried to pry her fingers loose. " Ahh, Let me go," I pleaded, but she only released my hair, throwing me into the wall with a violent shove.

    Snarling out in venom, she said," You think, having that stupid Antonio defend you. You now have the right not to acknowledge my presence? You filthy thing." My face was grabbed by her and was jammed against the wall.

    Pulling my hair back viciously before throwing me a hot slap, the force of her brutally made my head spin in searing pain.

    She was too strong for her frail frame, and I struggled, defending myself against her relentless assault.

    Despite my efforts, she landed a solid blow to my eye, the impact sending shockwaves through my skull.

    Feeling myself being thrown against the wall once more, my head spinning with dizziness. My vision blurring, helpless against this witch. She must have been trained in wrestling as her attacks were merciless.

    Blood dripped down my nose. Can’t I just be left alone for once? My thoughts swirl just like my head. Can’t I just have a peaceful moment?

    My vision was blurring, seeing black and white; death was calling me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes; I didn’t want to die.

    I have been trying to convince myself that I’m suicidal but I’m not. I’ve been drowning in pain and suffering.

    Never have I experienced anything that made me laugh, just pain and suffering, not even a little joy.

    Why me? Why. I refused to let death claim me, not today, definitely not at the hands of this monstrous woman.

    Summoning every last ounce of strength, I spotted a vase while she threw me towards the wall nearby and I seized it.

    Quickly grabbing the vase, unconcerned about the consequences of what I’m about to do. I swung the vase, striking the witch’s head with a sickening crunch.

    She looked at me wide eyes, ~not expecting that, huh~ before crumpling to the ground with a thud, releasing me from her tight grip.

    I inhale sharply, holding onto my head that felt it was about to fall off at anyway moment. This witch was damned strong.

    Looking over to her unconscious body; tempted to kick her freaking head for the pain I was in right now.

    I moved closer to her, kicking her leg instead, wanting to wake her up and apologize for my behavior.

    Because I didn’t want to risk being hanged for attacking a seemingly high-ranking member of the household. She looked like a higher-up.

    But she didn’t wake up. I tried kicking her legs again, but there was no response. I tried again, gently before increasing the force and urgency.

    Oh lord, alarm creeping up my spine. I dropped to the floor beside her, shaking her left and right but still to no avail, looking limp and unresponsive.

    My heart somersaulted as panic set in; oh lord, oh lord, what have I done?

    I gazed at her pale face, seeing a trickle of blood making its way down her forehead. "No, no, no," Whispering, my mind now racing with the consequences.

    Killer!

    Murderer!

    Get the fuck out of my head; the voice was coming. Moving my ear to her chest, I strained to listen for a heartbeat. I didn’t mean to kill her, maybe to knock her out but not this.

    There was silence, I’d killed her. Guilt and fear washed over me. The voices growing more louder in my head, taunting me.

    Budum.....budum... what’s that? The beat was weak but it was there, nonetheless. I released the breath I was holding, that was close, I slumped to the ground breathing out.

    Before looking over to her forehead, examining the wound on her head, and thankfully, it wasn’t deep. She would survive it ~hopefully~

    I wiped out the blood that was still dripping from my nose. Standing back up to look down at her, contemplating. Should I leave her here, lying unconscious in the hallway, and make my way to Miss Stella’s room to finally get some sleep, or should I move her somewhere disclosed and discreet?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Finally making my decision, I began dragging her by her ankle, her body scraping against the floor ~I’m sorry~. I didn’t have the strength to pick her up as she weighed a pound for someone her size. She was heavier than I expected, making me sweat my ass off just from her weight.

    My head was still spinning from being hit repeatedly as I began thinking again.

    Where could I take her? I didn’t know her room’s location and the top floor was off-limits – my tormentor might spot me-.

    I paused, releasing her leg as I pondered the options. Miss Stella’s room was out of the question too; She might wake up and ask me questions.

    Questions that I wasn’t ready to answer and I didn’t want to add her into this problem I had gotten myself into.

    Breathing heavily while still contemplating the scenarios, I bent over her face, checking if she still slept.

    But instead, her eyes snapped open, locking onto mine sharply

    "Fuck," She was going to kill me.