Page 9 of Vengeance Becomes Her

The only thing she knew is that all her thoughts drew her back to Silas. Even though she desperately didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t help but suspect that what happened to her must have something to do with him. Maybe not at his hand, but with his absence it only made sense that he was involved. If he hadn’t been, all his belongings would still be here. It was all too messy and confusing to sort out without her memories. All she could do was wait for them to surface.

However, as the days went on and she couldn’t recall any answers, she began to lose hope that she’d ever know the truth.

A few weeks had already passed in a blur. She slept, ate, slept, ate, and slept some more. It was all she could do. Even though she spent most of her time resting, she never had any energy. She just laid there. Her body weak and spirit broken. Her memories were like a thick dark sludge that she didn’t have the strength to sort through.

She watched the birds and the butterflies flourish outside. She felt the heat of the sun shine through the arched windows her mother insisted she uncover. She felt the breeze blow through and shift the air in the room. But instead of making her feel grateful to be alive, it made her bitter. It was a reminder of what she’d lost.

Silas.

Her vitality.

Her freedom.

Herself.

She’d lost everything by falling for nothing. Silas clearly didn’t love her or he would be here. It wasn’t that she couldn’t believe he would’ve wronged her—she learned how manipulative men could be at a young age—but she didn’t want to believe she was so naive that she didn’tsee any signs.

She’d thought he was her future. It was hard for her to believe that she’dbeen so wrong.

She knew she wasn’t being fair to herself. But being easy on herself is what got her here in the first place. She’d been so wrapped up in the idea of Silas that she’d never questioned his intentions. She’d allowed him to have access to her, even if it was just physical at first. If this all tied back to Silas, then she’d brought it upon herself.

The self-directed anger boiled within her, heating her skin and sending her pulse racing. She wanted to scream out in frustration. Kick, punch, tear, damagesomething.Anything.But she was stuck in the bed. So she had to sit there with her thoughts as they threatened to tear her last bits of sanity apart.

And so the days, and then weeks, passed with more of the same. She had no revelations that brought light to her accident or solace to her splintered soul. No, her only constant companions were pain and emptiness, their presence in an endless alternation. Their cycles were as consistent as the sun rising and the darkness that crept in as it descended beneath the horizon.

Day in, day out.

Day in, day out.

And on and on.

It was maddening and she could feel herself slipping away as the time passed.

Despite her refusal to get out of bed for more than a short walk around the house or even speak most of the time, her family would visit her every day. A reminder that she was still alive, that she still had things to live for. She wasn’t sure that was true anymore, though.

Yes, she was still here and time was still passing, but she didn’t know who she was anymore. She’d finally allowed herself to look in the mirror and was shocked by what she saw. She no longer looked like herself. She was a hollowed-out version of the person she used to be. Not even that. She was frail. She was broken. She had more or less ceased to exist.

The joys she’d once found no longer stirred anything in her. Reading reminded her of the adventures and romance she couldn’t have. Spending time with Jade was awkward. She didn’t have anything to talk about and hearing about her sister’s life continuing on made her jealous despite herself. She forgot what her own laughter sounded like. Easy smiles no longer graced her face.

Even her home—which had always brought her so much solace felt empty and uninspiring. She no longer took comfort in the warmth of the big fireplace, the cozy smell of old books didn’t lure her into her sitting room, even her soft bed with its luxurious sheets and blankets lost its allure. Now her favorite escape felt likea giant coffin.

And worse, everything around her reminded her of Silas. His presence clung to every piece of furniture, every blanket, every surface, and every dusty corner.

With the disappearance of these small comforts, the motivations that had once made her days worth waking for no longer sparked excitement. All she wanted was to sink back into the darknessand disappear.

As someone who had spent their entire life so sure of who they were, being perpetually lost and drowning in what-ifs did not suit her. Rhiannon was slowly suffocating on her own misery, one day at a time.

If this was what life was going to be for her, she didn’t think she wanted to live anymore. She wished for all-consuming nothingness that would swallow her whole. The thought of spending another day and night crying herself to sleep, her bones wracked with pain and her mind consumed by misery, was too much to bear. Her recovery was minimal at best. She didn’t think that she’d ever fully find her way back to herself again.

She just wanted to be done with it already.

After her sister left that night, Rhiannon decided she would end her suffering. She dug out the blade that Silas had kept in her drawer on what used to be his side of the bed. She examined it carefully. The silver gleamed as she held it out in front of her. Rhiannon’s gaze traced the menacing curve of the blade to its pointed tip.

She took three deep breaths, steeling her nerves, and brought the knife to her chest.

The sharp tip was cold against the hot skin that covered her heart, making it prickle. She pressed down, applying just enough pressure to break the skin.The bite of the cool night air stung when it met the thin slice of open skin. She applied slightly more pressure, testing the feeling of the harsh metal as it dug in. She knew she would have to plunge it in with force to succeed in her goal. As she stood there with the blade to her chest, her fear ramped up second by second. But it wasn’t enough to change her mind, she couldn’t live like this anymore.

She drew the dagger back high in the air, her hands clasped so tightly around the hilt that her knuckles ached.

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