I Am A Walking Corpse

As I flee to the exit door, I feel my limbs let go; I had to call on all my willpower and especially my father's lousy faith to stay focused. I have to get out of here as he ordered me earlier.

It's crazy what just happened. I just kissed a giant who is also a man. He completely bewitched me and put my mind upside down, so I kissed him back.

Why did I have to kiss him back? For God's sake, why Ewen?

I feel a wave of panic rising inside me, putting me in all my state. What if my father had seen me? I had to sit down painfully in the stairwell, my breath hitching. I have to calm down, catch my breath and find the normal rhythm of my heartbeats. Otherwise, I will pass out.

I feel like I'm about to burst and want to scream with all my might. And unwittingly, a rush of tears and convulsions took hold of my body. I cried for over an hour or less until I felt a semblance of calm and peace come over my mind, at least enough for me to get up and walk out of there. This guy is going to be my downfall.

He didn't follow me, and he didn't come down either. I wonder what he was thinking. And I wonder if I responded well to his kiss and lived up to his expectations.

I am freaking delirious now. These thoughts are absurd. Why am I worrying about this right now? There is much more urgent than these things. Despite what my father must think, I've never had such thoughts for a man. Sometimes when he looks at me, I feel like shit, as if he was trying to uncover my sin.

There's more critical now. I keep harping on it over and over, I try to convince myself in vain, but I always come back to the kiss, the warmth of his arms, the softness of his hand on my back, and the way he took my face.

His gaze, "oh my God!" The cry came out of my mouth like a complaint involuntarily. These last few days, it often happens to me to groan, whine or moan that escapes me, sometimes hoarse, sensual, and sweet.

This kiss affected me much more than my many love breakups. However, they were all relationships where I invested myself as body and soul like an unrestrained beast. But I was seen only as an accessory or a slot machine.

I no longer have any control over my body, over my reactions when these images come back to my head. They have never left me since the act I dreamt of him, his hands, his mouth, and his gaze, without talking about the warmth that his caresses gave me on my lower back.

I took my head in both hands, thinking again and again about this wave of sensation. It was as if I was experiencing the same thing repeatedly, trapped in a time loop. This expression I read on his face was priceless, and I couldn't get it out of my head.

I wonder what my exes read on my face when we kissed or did they have time to look at me. Oh, my God, I'm damned!

We will say that I looked for it. I looked for all these problems I confronted, and then they found me back.

I was the one who climbed onto that roof, driven by my uncontrollable curiosity, and it was still me who kept going there even when he had fled.

It's my fault. The price of my stubbornness is this kiss, which will lead me straight to my grave. I was digging my grave all those days, and now I am almost two feet on it.

I'm screwed so severely! I've been like a zombie since this day; that damn Aim had to turn my world upside down. I can't even eat; even my mother's voice can't bring me any rest; I haven't slept for a few days. These exotic dreams are turning into nightmares. I dream of him with my eyes wide open now.

I have become a shadow of myself, a damn corpse.

For my sake and my mother's, I must get out of this grip as quickly as possible; otherwise, we will pay for this mistake with interest, and I don't want my mother to suffer because of me.

She has endured enough already. These thoughts bring tears to my eyes which now flow down my cheeks like a river. I get emotional like a pregnant woman, and I can't even say the last time someone has managed to make me sad. I'm sensitive to everything; I am a waste.

What the hell is happening to me? Wake up, Ken. No, no, your name is Kenan, my friend, not Ken. Get out of my head, Aim, get out of there, bastard. I screamed desperately.

I keep screaming like hell before dropping my body heavily into my bed, bringing one of the pillows under my belly, and crying hot tears like a child.

The next day, I woke up very early without knowing how and when I had fallen asleep yesterday, with the firm conviction of taking control of my life once and for all.

I head for my bathroom, a spacious room whose walls and floor are covered with quartz.

My dad is one to flaunt his wealth. He doesn't care how much things cost; it's okay if he wants to afford them.

There are five more bathrooms, one as large as the other, not to mention the sophistication of each room the villa has. But the flagship room remains the one occupied by my parents. It's a real gem.

But he doesn't know how to show gentleness when caring for his wife and son. As a kid, I used to go there often, and when I was thirteen, I stopped setting foot in their home.

What interests me and what I like the most in mine are my walk-in closet and my bathtub. I completely renovated it when I was seventeen. It was my father's first interest in my work and I.

I was demanding, which made him very proud. He spent more than a month telling everyone how I managed the work I undertook in the room. And every time I go in there, I can't help but think of him.

This man thinks only of his happiness; as long as he is happy, he believes everyone else is too.

That is another reason to wake me up and take myself into account without delay. I mustn't let my mother down. She had gone through enough to help me, which worries me the most. She's my priority.

I noticed my image while passing in front of the large mirror that adorns the adjacent wall of the perfect walk-in closet. I had a start seeing the face that I have. I almost had a stroke.

I put my bath on while I prepared my morning routine. I tested the temperature of the water and let the bathrobe slide down my body to end up on the immaculate tiled floor of the room. Like everything in this room, everything is breathtaking and pristine.

I have lost weight, but I am still as slender and graceful. I run a hand through my messy hair without taking my eyes off myself. And slowly, without hurry, I slip into the tub, closing my eyes in contact with the water on my skin. It felt good, and I sighed. I stayed like that for an hour or more. I'm not sure.

Two knocks on my door brought me out of my reverie before letting go: "you can come in, mom." I know it's her because my father never comes, and the staff who take care of the villa come up only if I ask.

I sit up a little when she sticks her head through the door I'd left half-open; otherwise, I wouldn't have heard her knock on my bedroom door.

She's already dressed, wearing a tight khaki dress with red high-heeled shoes. She likes high heels, maybe because my dad is super tall, like him.

I sigh; hmm, you again, Aim!

I bought almost all of my mother's shoes. There are a hundred dozen now.

She comes to sit on the edge of the bathtub, crossing her legs. They are rather pretty for a woman in her forties. She had me in her twenties; she was already married to my father at eighteen. She runs a charity, which she founded herself, using her assets.

After a long look at me, she decides to ask me:

"So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you so much, darling?"

I shook my head no, to which she replied with a pout.

"Try to tell me anyway, and maybe we'll find a solution together. What do you think?"

"Eva told me that you haven't eaten and haven't been out of your room for three days either. Are you having some crisis, honey?"

While watching her talk to me with the same tenderness that only she could give me, I shook my head again. She got up, took my shampoo bottle, and sat behind me. The fragrance of Russian Amber didn't take long to invade the room. It's an absolute delight for my nostril and hair.

She began to massage my head with the same tenderness as when I was a kid, no taller than three apples. Three to four minutes passed without a word being said. She rinses my hair with care and love before she stands up.

"Do you want to come with me tonight? After meeting with the Bankes group, I have a gala for tonight. I'll let you think about it; if you like it, let me know, okay?"

"Okay, mom, thanks for shampooing me"

"Ah, darling, don't mention it. I couldn't resist washing your hair. Oh, don't worry, I did it for my pleasure. It's been so long since I did it."

With these words, she headed for the door with a big smile. That smile has always had the power to warm my heart. And suddenly, I feel a surge of energy rising within me.

I get out of my bath more enthusiastically than I did a few minutes ago. I put on some music, slipped into my favorite space, the walk-in closet, and started thinking about how I will dress tonight while choosing my outfit for this morning.

I opted for a loose black and white striped shirt with long sleeves that I folded over my forearm, a pair of white jeans, and a pair of navy blue suede leather Chelsea boots.

Finally, I added a Lige wristwatch to the set; the mesh is entirely blue, and the case is gold. I spray my ears, neck, and wrists with the gentleman of Givenchy.

Oh, speaking of perfume, I told you I bet he wears it, well I said right. Aim smelled so good, even delicious, a sweet and discreet smell like the person who wears it.

And it was a delight to have my nose plunged into his chest... ahh, get out of my head, for God's sake, you dam bastard.

Pff, what the hell?

A look in my mirror makes me blush with pleasure. Satisfied with my image, I bow and then leave the room. And especially to reconcile with Sam, I must take her talk more seriously now!

I'm ready to face my day.