"Why does it matter anymore?" I swirled around in the dark living room and questioned my aunt. "What do I have to live for? Absolutely nothing so if I indulge into a few old habits of mine, it's not going to affect me—or anyone." My chest burned as the words left my throat. It was always hard to repeat past and doing it after so many months bought me a terrible heartache.

"It matters to me, Eos. I care about you." She grabbed my elbow as I tried to put on my leather jacket. "I love you as your parents did and because of that, I can't see you falling into this hole. This addiction isn't going to lead you anywhere." The tears were there in her eyes, as always. Her face was wretched with tension and worries—most I had given to her.

I looked at the ceiling, hoping it would fall upon me and take away the numbing headache I had given myself by drinking alcohol earlier. I enjoyed the rushing feeling for only a few hours before it began to leave my body.

"I am going out for a walk." I sighed heavily and pushed my hands into the arms of the jacket before buttoning it uptight.

"It's the middle of the night." Her brows stretched high up and wrinkles spread across her forehead.

"Please, I need some fresh air." I walked across the house before reaching for the door handle. As my fingers wrapped around the metal, emotions swelled inside me, and I turned around to Aunt Carol. "I've work later in the afternoon, so I'll be back." I gave her some assurance as I knew that if I left without context, she wasn't going to sleep the entire night.

"Okay. Take care."

I drew myself away from her and left the house. She closed the door behind me as I stomped over the grass and made my way into the dark, empty streets. It was truly the middle of the night. The only car that ever passed through the street I lived at was a Chevrolet, owned by the neighbors next door. They usually returned at two in the morning.

I lowered my head down as the ache spread deeper into me. The night was blurry to me, everything was doubled, and I was nearing unconsciousness, yet I continued with my walk.

When the hair over my skin rose, I slid my hands into the warm pockets and fisted them together. A rough breeze passed me, tangling my hair just a little more. I was unbothered. And that was the only problem. I found it hard, impossible, to have any emotions. The drugs and the alcohol were supposed to make it better, but they made it worse.

I felt nothing.

Not even pain.

I made my way to the nearest café that was just a five-minute walk away from my house. It was kept open for most of the night. Standing behind the tall glass, I peeped in. The gold lights brightening up the café were somewhat dimmed as they were going to close soon.

I recognized a few people, sitting on the soft couches and drinking their warm coffees in midst of winter. A low harmony played in the back. The rich smell of coffee shacked up my senses and then I saw him.

He handled the last two tables in the corner, serving the old couple that decided on having a date on a gloomy Thursday night.

I pushed open the door and forced myself in. Blood rushed inside me, and my nerves throbbed. Adrenaline kicked in and the bubble of emotions I had been holding back came rushing out in seconds.

"I fucking hate you, you little lying, cheating man-whore." I yelled while storming into the café. "How could you just live on with your life after knowing what you did to me?"

Bryce turned around while holding the tray in his hands. His eyes widened and fear crossed through them upon finding me. "Please, not here, Eos." He whispered.

"Well, it wasn't a problem when you were fucking her on my bed, in my house when I was passed out just downstairs. No problem then, right?" I threw a fist over his shoulder, but it bought him no pain.

"Eos. You're drunk."

"Fuck you." I barked out before leaving the café as enough disturbance had been created. However, the few people watching were more than interested in me to continue but I controlled myself and left, not indulging any of them.

Right as I stepped out, I threw my hands over my head and bawled my eyes open till the numbing heartbreak left my body. Tears gleamed over my fingers as I pulled my hands away from my face. Heavy, repeated breaths hissed out of me before I let out a pained, silent cry and continued with the walk I so direly needed.

Life was unfair but I couldn't cry about it.

When I wiped my cheeks after several minutes, they were dry and the searing pain in my heart was gone.

I took the narrow path in the town that led towards the cemetery where a few hundred people were buried. There was no one important in the cemetery but visiting it every once in a while, bought me comfort.

It reminded me of my parents.

Though they were buried elsewhere, in another part of the country and it was almost impossible for me to ever visit them.

The tall, thick tree waited for me, and I made my way towards it without stepping on anyone's graves. Once I reached the tree, I hunched over its trunk before sitting down and overlooking the entire cemetery.

The guard on watch duty was nowhere to be seen on this certain night but to my surprise, there was a car parked by the metal gates. Its headlights were switched on and its engine was running but I was unable to see who was behind the tinted windows.

Someone was visiting their loved one.

I rolled my attention to the misty sky where the full moon glowed brighter than ever. My body shivered and I pulled my knees to my chest to contain the warmth. My boots dug deeper into the wet mud near the tree along with my clothes.

I didn't care.

Nothing truly ever mattered in life.

After my parents were murdered, I found no will to live and wished upon the skies and the nature that it could've been me instead of them. One question went through my mind every night and I sought its answer for years but couldn't find it.

Why didn't those men kill me? Why did they let me live?

I was with my parents when they were murdered, right upstairs in my old house when those men entered and killed them both. They stepped into my room and saw me sobbing but yet, for some reason, they let me live.

Why?

My eyes forced open, and I snapped out of my senses when I heard a whooshing sound spread through the dark cemetery. It wasn't the wind. My heart raced and I placed my hand over the mud before straightening my back and looking around for the source of the voice.

A pair of red lustrous eyes met with my soul, and I gasped in horror.