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Xavier's words echo in my head as I climb the stairs to my room. He's right. No one is keeping me here. Nobody wants me here.
My heart feels heavy with guilt and despair, and I've reached a difficult decision. I believe that leaving might be the best way to ease the pain and tension within the group. It's a tough choice to make, but I hope that my absence will alleviate some of the strain we're all feeling.
As I come to terms with this decision, it's like a weight pressing down on me. The thought of stepping away from the people I care about is incredibly hard, but I can't ignore the palpable discomfort I bring into the mix. Maybe, just maybe, by removing myself from the equation, they'll find some peace and relief.
Maybe they can go back to the way it was before I came into their lives.
Summoning my courage, I take a deep breath and resolve to change the dynamic. It's heartbreaking to admit that I've unintentionally caused this rift, but I can't bear to see Xavier and Antonio silently at odds because of me.
I start packing my belongings, my hands trembling as I handle the items that hold cherished memories of the life I shared with Xavier, Antonio, and Lucas. Tears prickle at my eyes as I think about all the things we did together. But now it's time to say goodbye.
I don't take much with me. Just the essentials: a few changes of clothes and some important documents. Every item I touch feels like a piece of my heart, and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Memories of the nights the four of us shared in here flood my mind, making it hard to focus on packing. But I know that I need to do this if I want to make things right.
They've made it clear that they don't want me here. Who am I to stand in their way a second time?
As I finish packing, I take one final look around the room, taking in everything I'll be leaving behind. The room feels empty and lonely without Xavier's smiling face, Lucas's playful banter, or Antonio's calming presence, and it breaks my heart knowing that this will be the last time I'll see this space.
"Goodbye," I whisper to the ghostly memories.
I step out of the compound, my bag in hand, and take a deep breath. The cool evening air hits me like a brick wall, and I stumble slightly. It feels like a dream, like leaving this place is the only way to end the nightmare. I glance back at the compound, wondering if anyone is watching me go, but it seems like no one cares.
Sadness washes over me as I turn away from the compound for good. How did it come to this? Just a few days ago, I was part of something–surrounded by people who cared for me. Now, I'm nothing. A castaway.
A shiver runs down my spine as a gust of wind picks up, reminding me that I need to find shelter quickly. As much as I want to keep walking away from my past, I can't ignore reality: without a safe place to sleep and food to eat, I won't survive.
I wander aimlessly through the streets, feeling lost and alone. The city lights twinkle like stars overhead, but they offer me no comfort. Everywhere I look, I see happy couples, families enjoying each other's company, and groups of friends laughing and chatting. And here I am, all by myself.
But I keep walking, trying to distract myself from the pain inside.
The new surroundings are foreign to me. The flickering street lights create eerie shadows on the rundown buildings, and the sound of my own footsteps echoes through the deserted streets. It's like a scene from a horror movie, and I'm playing the part of the helpless protagonist.
"Love isn't enough," Xavier had said. He admitted that his feelings for me weren't strong enough to convince him to protect me from the family. And Anthony... he really didn't have anything to say to me. Who knows where Lucas is, or if he's even in a state of consciousness. I have no doubt in my mind that they beat him until he couldn't move and dropped him somewhere random. Has he even been found?
I've ruined everything. It's... it's all my fault.
I shake my head, trying to push the dark thoughts out of my mind. I can't dwell on what's happened, or what mistakes I've made.
As I trudge further down the desolate streets, I feel a chill run down my spine. It's as if someone or something is watching me, stalking me from the shadows. Unable to shake off the feeling of dread, I quicken my pace until I'm running through the empty alley in a blind panic.
I can't make a sound as one of them reaches out to grab me. His rough hands close around my wrists, and I struggle to break free. But it's no use; they overpower me easily and pull me into an alleyway.
My heart pounding in my chest, I realize that this could be the end. The men are rough and aggressive, their eyes cold and unfeeling as they leer at me.
"Please," I whimper, trying to buy myself some time. "Please just let me go."
If only Antonio was here to save me this time.
48
ANTONIO
Irun into Xavier in the kitchen during lunch, our eyes briefly meeting before diverting away. The tension in the room is palpable, hanging heavy between us.
"Ah, Mr. Russo, Jim, the chef, looks up from his work. "What can I make for you this afternoon?"
My mind is preoccupied, and I reply with a distracted order.
As we wait for our food, silence engulfs us, wrapping us in an uncomfortable shroud. It feels strange not to exchange the usual banter or engage in casual conversation. The weight of the recent events still lingers, casting a shadow over our interaction.
