𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 & 𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

Chapter 31 - Building Hate

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Chapter 31

Building hate

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Your eyes focused on the trail of blood that led to the car. Its vivid colour was engraved in your brain, reminding you of what had happened earlier.

A shaky breath left your mouth as you watched Ken get in the car. You didn't stop him; even if you wanted to, you couldn't. Your body was frozen, unable to make any moves.

You watched him spare one last glance at you before driving away, disappearing slowly in the woods.

The sun was going down. There was barely enough light to distinguish the now-dried blood from the green grass. It blended together perfectly, like salt and water, and left no traces of it being previously tainted.

"Are you not going to come in?" Barbie stood by the door with crossed arms, leaning on the doorframe. "It's cold outside."

Her words felt bittersweet to your ears. It felt like a broken melody, one that played on loop but kept breaking out at that one specific note.

"I'm talking to you, Raquelle," she said sharply, waiting for a response. "You can't stay here all night."

In contrary to her words, you could stay here. You would stay here for more than one night if you needed to.

You didn't want to go inside. You couldn't stand being near them. It made you want to puke. Every time they would touch you, it felt repulsive. It was nauseating how calm and collected they were acting after what they had done.

"It's cold here," she repeated, her eyes falling on your back. "Please just come inside."

Even her pleading voice sounded sickening to you now. It was like a volcano was simmering inside of you. Her voice felt abrasive and piercing, like a discordant musical.

"Raquelle." She knelt next to you, pleading you to look at her. "Let's go inside, okay? Please, you're shaking."

You glanced down at your hands in confusion when you heard her words. Your hands were trembling like a little child's. Ever so lightly that it was almost unnoticeable, but not to Barbie; of course she would notice.

Times like these always reminded you of how mindless and inattentive you were. It reminded you of the times when you'd believe her foolishly, like a complete fool.

"I'm sorry." She pulled your hands into hers. "I'm sorry, Raquelle. I'm really sorry."

She tried pulling you closer to her as a way to try and lure her way back into your arms, but when she noticed your impassive and detached expression, she was quick to forget that idea.

She simply held onto you, like you'd slip away if she did, and gave you a wobbly smile, like she would break into tears at any given moment.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, bringing your hands to her knees as she looked up at you with a desperate look.

She stayed like this for what felt like hours. She stayed put in front of you, her head dropped to your lap as she repeated those words over and over again like a mantra.

When Ken returned, she still didn't move. You didn't spare a glance at him, and neither did he. He simply made his way inside, silently closing the door behind him. You could hear him faintly sniffling behind the door, repeating the same words Barbie was saying.

It was damning; the continuous hours of staying with them were. The slow cries and pleas of desperation were adding salt to your fresh wound. It burned and stung, leaving a morbid and ugly scar behind.

Barbie was the worst of the two. She clung and stuck to you like a leech. Refusing to let go in any circumstance. Her words coursed through your veins like venom, paralysing your every senses.

When she kissed you, it felt like a sting—a fiery sting. It left behind several scars that would never fully heal or dissapear. It lingered and swelled until the pain went numb and nothing felt like anything.

It all happened for a quick second, with a light kiss of desperation that turned to one of hunger. She didn't stop until a sharp, painful sound was all that was heard.

Time slowed when you noticed the red bruise on her left cheek. She looked at you with mixed emotions—sadness, confusion, betrayal—all of those were going through her eyes as she backed away from you, leaving some room for you to finally let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding.

She looked at you with an unreadable expression before looking back at the door where Ken was standing with wide eyes, watching the whole scene happening in front of him.

When her first tear fell, it felt like the whole world was crashing down. She didn't look at you—or more like she couldn't. Her tears welled up in her eyes like liquid diamonds, with each drop glistening upon her cheeks and her small sniffles like a slow, melodious opera.

You watched her make her way to Ken like a broken doll. He held her close, comforting her by shushing her down slowly as you looked away, keeping your throbbing guilt to yourself.

You didn't say anything when they both walked back in, leaving you alone outside. You didn't move when you heard the lights turn off and them moving upstairs. You didn't care.

Your eyes simply went back to where the now-visible trail of blood was. You traced the previous shape of where once stood your friend, your kindest friend.

You pictured him standing there, waiting for you to walk to him and to drive away with him, anywhere.

You visualised you walking to him, letting out a big, warm smile—one that was aimed only at him—and entering the car.

He was happy. You were happy, but then you opened your eyes, feeling the cold, harsh wind hitting your face.

The sun was back up. The birds were singing, the wind was whistling, and the grass was greener than ever.

The shuffling inside the house was filling the quiet of the woods, and you could hear small laughters filling the empty, condemning air.

You stood up with a little struggle, dusted your clothes lightly, and looked back at the house. It was time you got out of your daze. It was time you snapped out of whatever state you were in. This house needed to burn, and you would gladly burn it with your own hands.