The Drazen World: Purgatory (Kindle Worlds Novella)

strands of my hair, Hunter went into storytelling mode. Knowing answers were about to be handed to me, I relaxed in his embrace and listened to the soothing melody of his voice.
"There are many renditions of what has happened and is still happening in God's Kingdom. The first thing you need to understand is that religions are a man-made phenomenon. They are all correct and yet are all wrong at the same time. In fact," he adds, kissing the top of my head before resuming his tale, "they are all one and the same."
Closing my eyes, I recalled some of the earthly events concerning wars on religion. Catholics fighting Protestants. Muslims fighting Jews. Everyone fighting everyone in the name of their Maker.
"The Ten Commandments were written by men. The prayers were created by poets. The multitude of rules were a human fabrication. Father never asked for any of it."
"But..." I knew there was something that was missing but I just couldn't fabricate any type of question.
"Gabby, the only thing He ever wanted was for his children to love each other. We failed so, in turn, he feels he has failed. Everything just escalated into all of these ridiculous sins." Hunter's voice had taken a defeated note causing me to raise my head, looking him straight in the eyes.
"How do you know all of this? How long have you been in Purgatory? I mean, I don't know any of this."
Lifting himself up to a sitting position, Hunter swung his legs to the side of the bed, bowed his head and rubbed the short remnants of his dark hair. Sighing, he took a minute before speaking again; his back to me as I kneeled on the bed, confused.
"Hunter?"
"Look, Gabby. There are things I cannot tell you, yet. Before you can have knowledge, you need to heal. You have to find yourself before finding the truth." With that, he rose to his feet, turned to face me and placed a chaste kiss on the top of my head.
"I need to go. Read your parents' book, answers will surely be there for you."
"But Hunter...I don't..." Understand? Want you to leave? Fucking have a clue what's going on?
All should have been questions I could have hurdled at him, yet my throat closed up and words evaporated through the fog of my confusion. Once again, I found myself alone. In silence. No words to comfort me, no music to protect me. No lyrics to inspire me. Solitude wasn't just the story of my life, it was apparently the story of my death, as well.
From the corner of my eye, the simple cover of my book called to me. Urging me to do as Hunter asked. Encouraging me to look beyond my fear and self-hatred and learning to open my emotional horizons.
So, that was what I did.
I read.
I wept.
I learned.
All the while, I broke just a little more.
Chapter 10
Hunter had stopped by after I'd woken from a restless sleep. He'd come to tell me about his meeting with our resident PA and that he would be back shortly thereafter. Leaving me with a heart-stopping grin, he had winked at me just as the door fully separated us from view. My sigh at his boyish gesture had been worthy of a Sweet Valley High chapter.
Perched upon the bed, I absently stared at the gray wall facing me, thinking of everything yet nothing in particular. I was desperately searching for notes, for music to fill the empty spaces of my head but I heard nothing. I felt nothing. One of my hands instinctively reached up to my long blonde hair and trapped the strands between my fingers, sliding them to one side over my shoulder, as I had done thousands of times before while living with Monica. I began braiding intricate patterns. Once I reached the ends, I started the process all over again. As they had in the past, these mindless actions help my mind to focus on what needed to be done or said. It was never about creating the perfect braid, but more about occupying my fingers and hands so my thoughts could concentrate on more important details in my life.
Unbraiding my hair, I started over again, seeking insight.
Why was I so unhappy, then?
Was it the obvious death of my parents? I didn't fully accept this reasoning because I knew my darkness had started well before then. Their accident was merely the catalyst that brought the axe down.
Was it my uncontrollable craving for perfection? I couldn't reconcile with that notion. Seeking out the most flawless strings of notes should not have been a plight but a sublime journey.
Was it my competitive nature? In music, where my obsession for being discovered ruled over a large portion of my days. In my role as a twin, where being unique seemed unattainable. In friendship, where my jealousy for Monica grew exponentially with every note that she sang to the crowds drawn to her like sailors to a pin-up goddess.
As my fingers twisted the last available strands, the terrifying thought that every single one of my "quirks" were, in the end, my downfall. I did nothing in half-measures. I did everything with my entire being, even on that fateful night when instead of kicking my feet up to reach the surface of the water, I let the abyss drag me down. I kept my eyes open and watched the lights fade as my body slowly fell to the bottom of the ocean. Of course, the alcohol had been to blame for my initial desire to actually jump off the pier but my inability to kick my feet upward was my very soul giving up. I knew it then and it was blaringly clear as I sat there introspecting just as Hunter had asked me to do.
I was to blame.
I was