His touch, his kiss, his breath and his eyes. Oh, his eyes. One look from those deep grey eyes can freeze my bloody veins. Just his look on me can make me feel full and over the top. The way his grey orbs bore into mine with passion, sympathy, care but mostly something so damn deep that I find hard to perceive.

His breath, so warm that it sends chills down my whole body and in a matter of seconds I feel goosebumps on my arms. Just feeling his breath against my skin itself is enough for me to give at least a bit of hope that will make me wake to a new day.

The way his soft lips press against my cheeks to my jaw then down my body erupts volcanoes and surges waves in me. The way he easily manages to find that soft and secretive spot; that will make me drop to my knees, from his lips is immaculate.

The one question that has been nagging me on this drive home is, how on earth did this eighteen-year-old grey-eyed boy manage to make me feel something, that I had been craving for ages?

I have known the fact that I was in love with him since the first day he gave me a nickname and the way it sounded coming from his mouth, the concept of love flourished in me. But, I wouldn't trust it because I was so young and would a thirteen-year-old know about love?. Day by day and month by month which gradually lead to years made me realize that I did find love when I was just thirteen. Those years I spent after he left to his father, made me miss him but mostly hate but little did I know that hate followed love. For four years I had loved him. Out of it, three years I loved him without even hearing his voice or feeling his breath or even see his presence. It was like I was fantasizing about a ghost.

When I told, that I had to let go of everything bright and beautiful of my past did I mention that letting go of my first true love was the hardest, even though I knew I was holding on to nothing? Despite the difficulties, I did. I did let go of him, the love, the look and the happiness he brought into my life. And, after fighting for a month or so I presented myself as someone who had never loved, never felt happiness, never had anything good about my past. Simply, someone who was only filled and wrapped around trauma, pain, anger and sorrow.

But, here he is back in my life, brushing his fingers over my thighs and trailing kisses down my body, feeling his breath against my skin and filling that empty spot that once used to be his. Last nights encounter made me question it all. It made me question the unhealthy decisions and choices that I have made for myself. Paradoxically, he even makes me wonder whether I should allow myself to be in such pain.

A light has flickered in this dark tunnel that I have been walking but I have this large tendency to draw myself back to the dark. It feels like going after the light would be illegal and somehow sentence me to lifelong jail time.

I could say there are some things stronger than my emotions and feelings towards Damien and it would be the tragedy of losing my virginity, playing a small part but causing a major reason for my own elder brother's suicide and driving the car with my baby sister down a cliff under the influence of alcohol causing me and my family to lose another child. And, these are issues that could never be undone or solved and tell me, how can anyone make peace with that? impossible. So, yes! telling me to go towards the light is something that could never be done especially when my past is way too tragic, dark and so messed up that I can not leave it behind. I will forever be a slave for my bygone days.

Pushing my thoughts aside I get out of my car and head into my house. It was almost two in the morning and I had to drive myself because that fucker totally abandoned me. It was all good because my drunk state was worn off and I was pretty much sober. I refused all the requests of dropping me home from Damien to Jason and some other boys. I almost punched them boys in the face because I knew better than to think that they are just trying to take care of a drunk girl. And, this is what happens when you give a little a taste for just one, and the whole pack got themselves thinking that women are easy. I refuse to believe it, big time.

I open the door doubting as to why it wasn't locked assuming my mother would be asleep by now and I forgot my keys. But, I find her pacing from the foyer to the living area. Our house might be small but it did have a foyer with an opening to the living room on one side and to the kitchen on the other. She sees me standing near the door and I saw the beer bottle on her hold.

"Did you bring it?" she asked and she looked like an utter mess and by a first guess, I knew what she was talking about. I say I forgot about it or maybe I refused to believe that my own mother was asking for illicit from me.

"Um, no. I forgot". she takes a few steps towards me.

"What did you mean you forgot," she says as she was finding it hard to believe me.

"Mom, I forgot to get you weed," I tell her as she walks closer and smacks the end of the beer bottle against the wall beside us which made glass pieces shatter on the floor and I felt a few prick my skin. I flinched but never looking away from her. She brings the broken and the sharp end of the bottle towards my neck as my back hit the door, "Don't you dare call me mom. Because I didn't give birth to a murderer. You, you killed not only one but two of my babies because of you, my whole family was ruined. You are a curse and I should've listened to your father when he told me to abort you. Going against him was the stupidest decision I ever made in my entire life", she brings the bottle closer to my neck and I look up to get away from it and to avoid my tears from falling.

Words can kill you. Right, now I have thousand and one knives stabbed in my heart. Those words are nothing that I haven't heard before but each time hear them, those knives go deeper and deeper.

"Mom, get the bottle away. please. If you don't, you will regret it by morning" I say through my tears. She takes a step back and swings her palm across my cheek. Her slap was so hard and so strong that I fell to my knees. pain sting on my cheeks and I felt my blood rushing. I couldn't hold myself up to look at her so I close my eyes letting the cries escape.

"I would never regret killing you. For a fact I would be at peace" she sneered above me.

"Get out of my house. Get your filthy face out of here" she screamed so loud that I actually feared for my life. I couldn't collect myself to get back on my feet as my physical and mental pain was holding me down. Every move I take to stand, my knees give up. This reminded me of the night of the party when I was just fourteen, how I didn't have control over my own body. I couldn't lift myself even if I wanted. I couldn't fight as if my body was telling me that I already lost.

I curl up into a foetal position when I felt my own mother's feet kicking me as if I was some dog. No, not even a dog or any animal should be treated like this. I hold up my hand, telling her to stop as I was hard finding it hard to use my mouth. But, I had no choice but to speak up when she never stopped. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Pain in your heart and now followed by the physical pain does not make anything better. "Ella, stop. I-I will go. J-just give me a minute" I say followed by a cry. She bents to my frail figure, "I need you out. Now. Fucking curse" she hissed and walked away.

My body wasn't giving in at all so I crawl myself out of the door and I break down. I never cried this much since the moment my father refused to bring me to my own sister's funeral. I hug my knees tightly towards my body and a scream was let out of my mouth. The thought of me most probably waking the neighbours didn't even bother me, all I want is to scream my pain away, I want the echoes of my pain-filled voice to cure the scars. I cry until I don't have the energy to, hugging my knees more tightly I leaned the side of my face on them and I flinch when I felt the sting of pain from my mother's slap. I place my hand on the side of my face and I felt how warm it was. I felt like I was dead from the side, as my ear has gone mute.

I stay in that same position to lord knows how long until I heard the birds chirping and the sun gradually coming up, announcing that it is a new day. The pain in my chest has eased I could say because I was just staring into nothing not knowing how I feel and physically I haven't moved an inch. I stand up stumbling a bit - when I felt like my body was finally giving in. Pieces of glass were still stuck in my arm and the bleeding had stopped. There was blood on my white top as it was the cherry on top of the icing.

Ironic isn't it, that one moment I tell that I found a light but now I have been dragged into the dark deep ends of this tunnel. This just proves that my past is like my personal devil. Never leaving my side and always dragging me into horror. There's a reason why people call me a curse and that I am cursed.

***

I didn't know where to go. I don't have my car keys. So, here I am walking down the street hopelessly. As soon as the sun came up the dark clouds covered it. The weather was gloomy as if it was telling me that nature itself is sad for me. I look up as I felt small droplets of water falling to my cheeks and I smiled. I probably look like a psychopath right now, because it's not normal to see a girl in the street in this kind of weather, with blood on her body and a creepy-ass smile on her face. I could say I am the exact definition of 'smiling through her pain'. It's not a happy smile, it's a painful one. A smile that says she's tired, she wants to give up and she is in a never-ending battle of pain.

I don't have any house to go to other than Emma's - which won't be an amazing idea since I hardly try to walk two steps and that we are not on good terms which leads me to just one house, Lily and yes, also Damien's and Jason's house. So, I walk up to their house, my legs barely functioning.

I actually find it embarrassing and funny that I crawl back to the people that I pushed away.

I walk up to the door and as always I contemplate whether I should knock or just walk away and fall on the streets. That actually wasn't a bad idea but if anyone saw a girl who's is an utter mess with blood on her skin in the streets, they wouldn't think twice about calling the cops on me. So, I knock. Twice, thrice no answer. I sigh and lean my forehead against the door and I almost fall when the door was open and was met with a bright ass smile which dropped suddenly.

"Oh God, Rhea you are bleeding and- What the fuck happened?" Jason questioned giving me a hand to enter the house.

"I'm fine. Is Lily home?"

"She went out a few hours ago but she'll be back. Could you please tell me what happened?!" he says and I sit on the couch bringing my knees to my chest.

"I said I'm fine, Jason. Is Damien still sleeping?"

"No, he said he had to drop Jennifer home and after, he never came home and You do not look fine," he said and kept his hand on my arm, I flinch and take my arm away.

"Of course he didn't come home"

Of course.

A/N - TOLD YOU SHE HAS HER REASONS.

AND, I AM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS CHAPTER. I MEANT IN THE WRITING WAY.

SO, WHAT'D YALL THINK? SHOULD WE KILL ELLA OR NOT?

HAHAHA, YOU WISH.

THANK YOU FOR READING AND IF YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER.

- PEACE