Page 226 of Deviant

It’s funny how all these months have passed, and sometimes I get the sensation that all of them are in the same room with me. Like they are all standing right next to me, cheering me on.

I don’t even have a picture of them.

Nothing.

All I have are my memories.

And on cold winter nights, those memories are the only things that keep me warm.

But then again, I guess that’s what life comes down to. It’s nothing but a string of memories woven together to paint the picture you want. If suffering and misery are the memories you cling to, then that’s all your life will amount to. I prefer to thinkhow blessed I was in finding a group of people, that even under such vile conditions, showed me what true friendship looked like… showed me what love feels like.

Even though I feel Elias’s death the most, I wouldn’t change a single thing about our time together. If the pain I’m feeling is because I experienced such intense, unconditional love, then I’ll happily suffer for all eternity.

Because a love like that only comes once in a lifetime, and I got to experience it… with him.

No one will ever replace him in my heart.

Because Elias is irreplaceable.

He always was in my eyes. Even as a child, he fascinated me. There was always this magnet pulling me toward him, and though it tookThe Scourgeto force me to give in, I’m glad I finally did.

I know he’s gone now.

Any hope I had that he survived the fall died a long time ago.

If Elias were alive, he would have found me by now.

He would have moved mountains to discover where I am.

No.

My Elias is dead.

Only my love for him remains.

I force a smile at the bank clerk as he checks his computer screen to verify my account. I’m beyond tired. For the last twelve hours I’ve been either on the road or in a plane just to get here. Of course, it would have been simpler for me to drive from New Orleans to Florida and fly from there to the Caiman Islands, butif anyone is following me, then I want to keep them guessing what my next move will be.

“Ah, here it is, Miss Hawthorne. And how could I be of service to you today?”

“I would like to close my account, but before I do so I would like you to transfer all my funds to this bank account?” I say politely as I pass him a paper with my Swiss bank account details on it.

“Very well.” He smiles, but I can tell his smile is as fake as mine. “May I ask who this account belongs to?”

“A friend,” I reply, keeping my answer vague.

“Lucky friend. It’s not every day we see someone transfer this amount of money to a friend’s account.”

“Then they need better friends.”

“Well put.” He frowns.

“Thank you,” I retort with a genuine smile on my face this time.

He vigorously taps his fingers on the keys of his keyboard, followed by handing me a few papers to sign. Once everything is done, he gets up from his seat and extends his hand for me to shake.

“I wish you all the best in your endeavors and hope to see you again, Miss Hawthorne. We hate losing such valuable clientele.”

You will not see me again.

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