Chapter 3

[LUNA]

"I heard you were chased by Sinaloa Cartel," J spoke as soon as I got inside the mansion. I just grunted and walked past him. It irritates me whenever he’s acting like a dictator, nagging me about what I should do and what I shouldn’t when in the first place, he doesn’t have any rights at all.

"They're too slow," I smirked as I slumped my body on the couch. It was too exhausting. Kylie followed me and sat on my lap, her arms around my shoulder.

"Yeah, Luna is the best. I was scared, but she was so cool. She outran those losers," she laughed and kissed my cheek. Well, if you're wondering, Kylie is my best friend and also my fuck buddy, but relationships are something I never do. J averted his gaze with wrinkled brows. I could sense the anger and jealousy inside him. I am well aware that my brother loves Kylie, but what can I do? He's too slow.

"Damn! You better be careful, Luna!" V said with mock astonishment. And here goes pastor number 2. V also nags me at times, but I must admit that he’s less irritating than J. I just lay back on the couch; my mouth flattened on a thin line.

"I am always careful," I smugly uttered.

"Don't be so arrogant. dad won't be pleased with your carelessness!" J snarled, his veins bulging with anger. I could tell he was livid with me, but I just rolled my eyes. He wanted to kill me, but he couldn't even if he tried.

"I had no idea they were there. It's just a part of our lives, J. Don't be such a chicken!" I shot back, my frustration mounting. Kylie sensed my irritation and quickly hopped off my lap.

"Oof! Did you just call J a chicken?" B burst out laughing, and V joined in, unable to contain their amusement. J didn't react to their taunts and continued to glare at me with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. I raised an eyebrow at him, smirking.

"I'm just reminding you to be careful. Remember what happened last year? An innocent person died because of you!" J reminded me of the tragic incident. I didn't care about it then, and I still don't care about it now. My dad had handled it, and it was in the past.

"Save me from your bedtime stories," I dismissed the topic, standing up and walking away. I was exhausted and desperately needed some rest.

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[ABBIE]

I woke up, gasping for air, sweat drenching my sheets. That nightmare had returned, the one I couldn't seem to shake. The memories of Xanthe being killed in front of me played in my mind like a cruel movie, repeating over and over again. I buried my face in my hands, trying to shut out the horrific images. I could still hear her voice, telling me to hide while she faced the group of murderers alone. I felt like a coward, frozen in place, unable to move. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but my muscles wouldn't respond. The sound of gunfire echoed in my ears as Xanthe's body fell to the ground, her lifeless form soaking in her own blood. The group of thugs erupted in laughter as they continued to shoot her, over and over again. I lost count of how many times the bullets struck her. It was too much for me to bear, and tears streamed down my face as I wept silently. How could I escape this nightmare? Tell me how?

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"Why don't you paint again?" suggested my sister for the umpteenth time. I'm guessing she heard me sobbing last night. I don’t know if she got used to it, but judging from her tone, maybe she’s getting tired of it. Well, it’s normal, I’ve been like this for a year. Who wouldn’t get tired of it?

"I don't know how to paint anymore," I admitted as I stirred my coffee. My sister will be gone to her office later, and I'll be left here in our house again — alone, lonely, and empty.

After Xanthe died, I didn't know how to live anymore. It's as though my entire world revolved around her. No, scratch that — she is my world. And I don't know what to do without her. She is my compass and North Star, who gave direction to my life.

"You know how. How about the artwork you contributed to the museum? You painted that last year," she said, taking a sip of her coffee and looking at me. Most of the time, my sister can be really pushy. Usually, my answer will be a simple “No”. But maybe I could explain myself to her this time.

"That was after Xanthe died," I answered, fidgeting my fingers.

"Abbie.....," my sister dragged out and glanced at me worriedly. She might have thought that I wasn’t ready for this conversation. She was there every single time I broke down, cry, and lost consciousness. She’s hurting as well. I know that. But she’s too strong to move on, and I am not.

"I'm… I'm now ready for this, Mia. I can't sleep at night because I'm thinking about her," I felt a sting in my chest and swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

Mia's yearning eyes gazed at me and said, "Why don't you come with us; with the gang tonight? They miss you so much. You just locked yourself in your room for a year."

I felt a sting on my chest and somewhat think that Mia doesn’t really understand how I feel. But I’ll just let this pass and still give her a chance. We’re both broken, but I’m even more broken that I can’t just move on that easily.

"I... I can't," I answered. I feel guilty every time I consider having fun, going out, or simply being happy. I feel like I'm betraying Xanthe for being happy without her.

My sister spoke again as if she had read my mind, "Xanthe won't be happy to know that you're not taking care of yourself."

I shook my head. I refused to believe what she said. She may be Xanthe’s best friend, but I knew Xanthe more than she did.

"Xanthe won't be happy if she finds out I forgot about her," I reasoned as I turned around and considered heading back to my room. I don't want to argue with my sister any longer. This will be an endless cycle and I’ll just hurt her with my words and with my actions.

"You won't forget about her. I didn't forget about her," my sister continued, almost beggingly, "But we all have to move on, Abbie. She will remain in our hearts."

"I don't want to be happy without her," I muttered as I walked towards my room. You know that feeling when you lost every reason to live? So why would I be happy with it?

"Don't be harsh on yourself; she'll be happy if you're happy," I heard her say. I didn't mind her and just lay down on my bed, trying to close my eyes. If only I could sleep forever. I want to dream about Xanthe. I want to talk to her, hug her, and feel her. I miss her terribly. I want to be with her. I didn't realize my tears were already streaming down my face.

"I miss you, love," I murmured against my pillow, "I miss you so much."

How I wish Xanthe would be here once I open my eyes, but no. I still hear my sister’s voice outside my room. If only I could tell her to leave me alone, but I don’t want her to feel like I’m pushing her away. All I want is for her to understand; I can’t move on just like that.

"Abbie, please listen to me," Mia knocked on my door. I wiped my tears away as I opened my eyes.

"Look, I'm not saying that you should be happy instead of mourning. But I want you to live, Abbie. We need to learn to accept what happened. You need to live," she continued from behind the closed door. I got up and walked over to the door, but I refused to open it for her, so she continued to speak.

"I am your sister, yet I can't even do anything to help you, and it hurts," she started to puled, and I felt my eyes well up with tears once more.

"I’m a lawyer and I never stopped looking for the people who killed my best friend; it hurts for me, too, Abbie... but we all have to live," she sniffled and sobbed openly. My sister has a strong personality, and I rarely see her cry, so when she does, that means she’s really hurting that much. I opened the door gently and found her weeping. God! How I can end this pain that keeps tormenting us both?

"Can I just go with her?" I was losing my will to live as I asked. She stopped her sobbing and looked at me in disbelief. I felt a little nervous about what she was going to say. But I couldn’t take it back. That’s how I really feel.

"What did you say?" her sadness turned to anger.

"I want to be with Xanthe," I declared with conviction. If I live much longer, I will just inflict pain on everyone. I'm afraid I'll merely make it difficult for them to endure my predicament.

"That's so stupid! Are you going to leave us, huh? Don't you love us anymore?" my sister practically whispered the last words. I know she's hurt; she's deeply hurt by what I said.

"I had to forget everything, Mia; I can't bear it any longer," I broke down in tears. I sank to the floor, my knees weakening, and I curled them up against my chest.

"I'm so scared. I'm so scared to be happy," I wept, and Mia knelt on my level to hug me tight.

"Please don't think that way. Let me help you. Please let us help you," she pleaded as she embraced me in her arms.

"It terrifies me. Everything keeps repeating inside my head. But what scares me the most is the possibility that I might forget Xanthe and be able to live without her," I mewled as I spoke.

I felt that the only way out was to disappear.

"That's what we want, Abbie; we want you to live even if Xanthe is no longer with us; please, Abbie, don't suffer any longer."

I breathed out and closed my eyes. I can't imagine my life without you, my love. So, what should I do now? You'll probably tell me what to do if you're here.