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Rafael
Maria walks into my office, her hands clasped in front of her and a grim expression on her face.
“How is she?” I ask.
“The same.” Of course. She’s always the same.
Weeks have passed, and Anna just exists. And it feels as though I slowly cease to exist. Nothing matters anymore, as though all the color has been drained from the world. Everything is bleak and gray, because, without her, I am nothing.
“I’ll get you some food,” Maria says hopefully.
“I’m not hungry.”
On a resigned sigh, she walks out of the room, and I open my office drawer, reaching for the flask of brandy I keep there. This has become my only means of survival—to become as numb as Anna.
Leaving the office, I walk aimlessly through the house until I find myself in her room, my room. I never sleep in the bed anymore, but I don’t want her anywhere else. She lies on her side, staring blankly through the open balcony doors. She doesn’t even seek out the sun like she once did. She’s just…destroyed. Nothing of her remains. Every day that I come in here and see her like this, I lose a little more of myself.
I never thought I’d be rendered this weak, but my little warrior has me on my fucking knees, begging her to fight just one more time.
She won’t though.
