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ATTENTION!
This is not a romance book and it definitely not pretty.
This book is dark, twisted, and wrong. It is melancholic, and fucked-up.
I have a hero you shouldn't love.
I have a heroine you shouldn't sympathize.
I have some scenes you don't want to read.
I have some scenes you'll be offended because you can't resist the temptation of keep reading it.
This book has nothing to do with unicorns, rainbows, heart, and flowers.
And I'm warning you...
If you read this book it is your choice, not mine.
Don’t forget that I warned you.
This book is dedicated to our demons, our monsters under the bed or inside the closet.
This book is my siren call to the darkest and deepest parts of our souls.
Doctor’s office–November 20, 2015
“How are you feeling today, Angel?”
Cynthia Celeste, aka CC, was the best psychologist in the city. She looked like a complete professional, just the way she should. A fit body that makes you want to start a new life with regular gym visits and a healthy diet, a perfectly tailored business suit with a pencil skirt –enough to highlight her feminine body, and cool posture that made you think she was in control. Not a single hair out of place as far as you could see, and yet she managed to be sincere with that cold appearance of her.
She leaned back in her chair, waiting patiently as I didn’t give her an answer. Her stare was a pressure, like she was trying to break me into pieces and solve all the secrets; maybe she really wanted that.
I turned my head to look at the wall that was covered with diplomas, educational successes, licenses from every conference she’d attended –her wall of pride.
Yet, they weren’t enough to help her figure me out.
She needed me to answer her questions… questions I didn’t have the answers to.
I finally looked at her, “I don’t know.” My voice was foreign to me, crooked and raspy because of my long-lasted-silence. But the empty feeling inside me was more unnerving than my voice. Even CC’s penetrating blue gaze didn’t make me feel like a lab rat –nothing made me feel.
There was only emptiness; dark and soulless.
The only thing that made me feel something was forbidden to me.
Forbidden to remember…
Forbidden to miss…
Forbidden to love…
But I wasn’t Angel like my name labeled me, I was Eve –and all I could think of was the taste of the forbidden; bitter, wrong yet intense…
January 17, 2014
I groaned with sudden pain as the drugs started to leave my system. Trying to move my fingers, I sighed in relief when they moved enough to create a fist. My whole body was aching. I didn’t wanna come to my senses if it meant feeling this pain, but I wanted the blur in my mind to fade away.
Turning my head to see my surroundings, I narrowed my eyes because of the throbbing in my temples. Thankfully, the room was almost dark except for the soft light coming from the small window that was placed high on the wall. It was the only welcoming thing that didn’t suit the abandoned feeling of the room. The bed had filthy bedding on it. A wooden dresser and an old chair were the only other furniture in the room.
After a quick observation of the room, I noticed I was lying on a dirty carpet. I tried to push myself from the ground, wiping my cheek with disgust, but shook my head when I realized how absurd my concern was. I didn’t even know where I was, yet the dirt was bothering me.
My mind wasn’t clear yet. Thoughts were coming and going before I could catch them. I didn’t remember how I ended up in this room. I tried to put my thoughts in order. They were coming in pieces, like pictures, but I couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell me.
I tried to stand up, but my muscles weren’t strong enough. Crawling toward the bed, I put my head against it, didn’t bother with the hygiene problem this time. As I forced myself to think my head began spinning. I tried to focus on my body instead of how I ended in this situation.
My throat was aching.
Did I scream?
A long worn-out t-shirt covered my body. I wasn’t even sure which color it was. It wasn’t even fashionable.
Who made me wear this disgusting thing?
I shook my head slightly when I noticed my thoughts lost their focus again.
Why was I here?
Who brought me here?
I tried to remember, but before I could find answers the door opened.
“Look who is awake! Why did you sit here alone, Cupcake? You could have called out for me and we could’ve had fun,” he cooed at me.
The pieces in my mind started to make sense when I saw him. But it was too late; I didn’t have time to think as he came toward me like a hunter. No, like a predator.
I tried to back away, but there was no way to run away from him.
Michael Harrison.
My monster, my enemy… my stupidity.
January 1, 2014
