Page 57 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

I walk farther until finally, the raindrops touch me, soaking me instantly from head to toe. I throw my head back as the chaos in my head and soul temporarily settles, silencing the torturous voices playing in my mind repeatedly like a broken record that causes me only pain.

You and your sisters are my only failures. Look at me when I speak to you, girl!

Lightning flashes again, followed by a loud boom, and the rain intensifies. I am no longer burning up but cold. So very cold. I can’t feel my toes. I wonder if I remain here under the rain if I’ll start feeling numb everywhere. I stay glued to the spot even when the cold and the exhaustion I feel threatens to take over me.

Feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions, many of them painful ones, I raise my head towards the angry sky, close my eyes, and feel a tear fall on my cheek but maybe it’s just the rain. I can no longer tell. I haven’t cried in years, I was sure I ran out of tears by now.

Perhaps it’s all in my head, yes.

Look at me, girl, and beg. Beg for mercy!

You’re not as pretty as your bitch of a sister but you’ll do.

Evil laughter.

Groans.

The sharp sting of whips.

The burning pain inside of me.

The promise of a not-so-lonely future.

It all flashes through my mind hurting me.

Memories like a kaleidoscope flash through my mind, one more hideous than the other, and thunder echoes in the air in time, the chaos slowly erupting inside me with each passing second.

My head feels as though it’s cracking open, being divided in two parts. The pain is agonizing, but it will pass. The worst is yet to come. I know.

And then it all goes quiet in my head, making me think that maybe darkness has finally swallowed me whole, but no. The voices in my head are silent, yes but not because of the rain or by darkness but by the comforting sensation of a strong arm pulling me close to a hard chest. Suddenly I’m not cold anymore or in pain and the rain is not falling harshly on my skin and when I raise my head, my eyes clash with angry gray ones. The same eyes from my dreams and nightmares.

Vitali stands under the rain while he holds an umbrella over my head. A red umbrella. Almost identical to the one he gave me when I was a child. He’s soaking wet, his translucent skin looking even paler from the cold. At this moment he looks as I would imagine an angry god looks as he causes a storm in heaven while battling both good and evil.

My handsome angry god.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Moya dusha?” His deep baritone voice comes out hoarse, and I feel as if a thousand knives are stabbing me in the chest. His handsome face is contorted in anger and his eyes are no longer furious but sad. So sad.

“I’m tired, Vitali. I’m so tired.” I croak out as I look into my favorite shade of gray.

With that last confession, my body goes limp in his arms as I fall under and I go to a place where it doesn’t hurt. Somewhere the nightmares and the voices can’t reach me, somewhere where I don’t have to be strong all the time.

A place where all I see is gray.

My favorite shade.

Always him.

* * *

Vitali

I’ve been hurt plenty of times throughout my life. I had my bones broken, I’ve been shot, I was stabbed and most recently I was thrown off my bike by the impact of bullets hitting my skin yet nothing has ever done permanent damage like the image of Kadra with tears in her eyes.

Every tear she shed felt like a stab wound to my heart. It pierced me deeper than a bullet or a knife ever could.

Fuck.

I knew she experienced hell but the look in her eyes told me more than her mouth did.

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