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76–A broken Omega.

EUDORA.

For days after that, I drowned in one nightmare after another.

And that was even the times I could close my eyes to sleep because the poor things have endured so much pain from the heaviness of being kept open for too long. But there was barely any difference being awake or asleep made because I still heard those screams.

They still echoed in my head. Made it feel like a dark empty room, bouncing off its walls because there was no way out—not a door, not a window. Just a room.

I still felt those hands too. They caused a Squeamish feeling to wash over me each time I thought of them and the places they’ve been on my body. I’d wash and wash and wash myself till the sponge bruised my skin and the soap caused it to sting but even that didn’t make the feeling of filth go away. I felt like dirt each time I remembered how I almost got claimed against my will.

And I still saw her.

Laila.

Lifeless in every single image that crossed my mind.

I hated it. I hated that it was the image
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