untitled novel

Excerpt

Tamarria Denga

       She woke up to blood everywhere. It soaked the expensive sateen cotton sheets he’d gifted her, and was smeared all over her legs and hands. She sat up in the bed slowly, fear rising to sheer panic. Her now crimson hands shook uncontrollably as she raised them to her face to get a better view. From her elbows to the tips of her fingers, she was covered in the red liquid. She fought to hold back the scream that threatened to shatter the silence. Where was she? What had happened? She couldn’t clear her mind long enough to remember anything. Why was there blood everywhere? Was it hers? Was she dying? As soon as she had that thought, an unbearable pain of the likes that she’d never experienced before, shot through her, and the scream that she’d been suppressing, came out in a blood curdling cry. She struggled to gain control of her breathing for fear of passing out and never waking up. She needed help.

       Bent over in agony, she saw a phone on the night stand and reached for it. Realizing it belonged to her, she fought with the passcode, but before she could unlock the phone, another bolt of excruciating pain surged through her, knocking her on her back. Once again fighting to regulate her labored breathing in an attempt to calm her racing heart, she lost that battle. The pain was more than she could take. The realization of what was happening came flooding in like high waters, and as her vision blurred, she thought back on the events that had brought her to this point. She loved him, though he was never hers to love, but some naïve part of her thought that he loved her too. After all, he’d told her every time they’d made love in this very bed. He made her feel like the only woman in the world when their eyes met, like new found treasure when he held her. During those moments, lying here with him seemed like the only place on earth where she belonged, but never in a million years did she ever think that he would leave her here, in this bed, to die alone.