AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Treacherous.
Murderous.
My fists ball as the image slowly fades away again, just as it always does.
I march toward the door, clutching the paper in my hand, not giving a shit about the beer I ordered but never drank. Before anyone even says a word, I close the door behind me.
What little memories I have left of my life always vanish as quickly as they come.
But there is one thing that never leaves me.
Rage.
Three years ago
* * *
I never imagined death to be so peaceful.
As the water gushes into my lungs, I feel strangely neutral about death. The car sinks to the bottom while my lifeless body sways along with the waves, my eyes turned inward at my own soul as it departs my body.
Sudden cold hits me hard. Arms envelop me, wrapping me in warmth, push and shove me around, my body like a wet rag. And none of it fazes me.
Until…
I see her.
The girl with the long, flowy blond hair, sharp nose, and plump, pink, heart-shaped lips … the girl who makes my frozen heart beat loudly again.
A single gasp emanates from my mouth. My eyes burst open in a flurry of emotions, water spurting out of my throat as someone pounces on my chest. Blinking, I cough and heave, my own life flashing by me in a second.
And then … nothing.
“Hij leeft nog,” someone says.
He’s still alive.
I don’t know why I understand the language. It’s not the same language as in my brain, yet I understand. How? Why?
Looking around, I only see strange faces leaning over and peering at me like I’m a dead man walking.
“Hoe kan dit? Hij had al lang dood moeten zijn.”
How is this possible? He should’ve been dead already.
Someone checks my pulse while I look around at my surroundings, completely out of it. There’s wood all around me, painted in red and blue, and the floor sways as much as the water did when I was still submerged.
Fuck.
“Gaat het? Hoe voel je je?” someone else asks.
Are you okay? How do you feel?
Are they talking about me?
One second, I was underwater, and then the next, I’m sucking oxygen into dry lungs that sting with every breath. Fuck. It feels like I got run over by a truck.
“Hoe heet je?”
