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and over again. No matter how hard I tried to grasp onto reality, I still managed to slip right back into my world of nightmares. Maris came tonight at least but

d me. As if. What could I do? I needed sleep. My brain was slurry with exhaustion but my heart was beating as fast as a cheetah running after a prey. Mom used to give me warm milk whenever I was

e night. The doctor had declared me mangled after Madam Veronica had brought me to the hospital. I had been in stitches and bruises for months on end excluding my extra months of therapy. Dr. King had gone to the ends

ir way into the house. I slapped my hand over my mouth tightly to prevent myself from screaming aloud. Was it a burglar? But Vincent, the doorman always locked the great doors after ever

or her daughter who was still at the peak of her career. I cared less about my well-being anyways. I was of no good to anybody; I was finished, a

minut

tchel

y for another more annoying one to begin again. Didn't the blimey radio station have any songs from this century? No James Blunt, Ed Sheeran, The Script? Dominic, my chauffeur who was always acting stoic, did not seem bothered by the harmonic dis

nic slot at the gate and immediately, the gate opened to admit us in. He quickly got behind the wheel again and eased the car in gently. I alighted th

now, Dominic. Us

ood nig

ed me wickedly and I quickly turned my key in the lock. The silence in the lobby was so ominous but of course, everyone would be in bed at that time of the night. I dragged my l

ceiling and even the pristine tiles were immaculately white. I could only imagine the pains it took the helps to keep the environment in such a tidy state. My kit