The Drazen World: Purgatory (Kindle Worlds Novella)

in phantom pain. Selfishness is a fickle thing. It's obvious in others and yet nearly impossible to decipher when you're the one in possession of it. Monica and Darren had given up so much with the hope that one day, all of their efforts and sacrifices would be paid back by a simple, genuine smile on my face. It happened, of course, but they were few and far between and as ephemeral as a butterfly's lifespan. Instead of acknowledging their love and support, what did I do? I took it all away in a moment of self-doubt and anger. No goodbyes, no closure. Nothing but unabashed selfishness. The only positive point was that, now, they could both go on with their lives without having to worry about poor, little Gabby and her perpetual egg shells.  I usually disregarded my fraying emotions and, technically, I was dead so I couldn't understand why all of my mortal feelings were so constant. So omnipresent. It was disconcerting and I didn't like this vulnerability, not one bit.
Hunter unleashed a smiled that made even the gray walls dissipate into a light so bright it almost blinded me, bringing me back from my momentary self-pity party.
"A beautiful name, for a beautiful woman." He said, sincerity playing from every syllable he spoke.
"Whatever. It was my grandmother's name. She was old and half senile." It was true. I had never assimilated my name to anything beautiful. Wise? Yes. Fiery? Most definitely. Beautiful? Not so much.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his tone a solemn weight that immediately brought my attention to his captivating chestnut eyes. I stared intently at him only because his gaze shackled me to the spot. I couldn't move, he wouldn't allow it. I could barely breathe from the impact of his attentions.
"Why?" I breathed out.
"You've lost the ability to see beauty and that, Gabby, should be a sin in and of itself."
Normally, I would be flipping him off, hurling obscenities at him, maybe getting in a couple of well-placed insults regarding his own faults but it all seemed endlessly futile.
"I know. I've been dead a long time." I admitted, if only to stop this conversation from incessantly filling my soul with unwavering darkness.
"Then, wake up and live. Your earthly body is gone, Gabby, but your mind? Your soul? They’re just on stand-by waiting for you to open your arms wide and accept the exquisiteness that lies in wait." Using his abs to right himself into a sitting position, he leaned in close and whispered so softly I barely heard a word. His mouth close to my ear, his breath stroked a line down the outer edge of my ear lobe and sent a shiver dancing down my spine. "Music exists within beauty. Accept the latter and the former will follow."
In a move so quick I almost missed it, Hunter brushed his soft lips across my jaw before hopping off the bed and disappearing behind the now closed door of my room.
‘Music exists within beauty. Accept the latter and the former will follow.’
What did that mean?
Was he talking about the musical notes that had abandoned me inside my mind? My lack of musical inspiration? If so, where the fuck was I supposed to find beauty in a place where gray was the only color available?
From the corner of my eye, I noticed an oval, metal-rimmed mirror hanging on the wall. It blended seamlessly in the identical color scheme but my own movement had drawn my gaze straight to it. Slowly, I made my way over and sighed before looking at my own reflection.
Dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, average nose, non-descript lips.
Bland.
That was what I saw. All my life, I had seen my potential but had never reached it. I had felt the greatness within me but had never tapped into it. I had heard my talent reaching out but had never pulled it to the front and center of the stage. No, that was Monica's specialty.
Monica, the beautiful.
Monica, the smart.
Monica, the natural.
Monica, Monica, Monica.
And me? I merely accompanied her greatness. The brighter she radiated, the dimmer my light became until one night, it faded completely.
Raising my eyes back up to my reflection, I brought my index finger to my lips and traced their outline. At least they were symmetrical. Not too plump to mistake them for a Botox project gone wrong. Not so thin that they looked non-existent. As I ran my fingers from my top lip down to the bottom and up again, I decided that they could, in fact, be described as kissable. If every other part of me was disposable, I could at least be honest with myself and admit that my lips had some type of appeal.
There was always that.
Chapter 3
"Gabby, it's nice to see you again. Were you able to make music since last we spoke?" I was back in what I had named as the ‘empty room’ with the man who held such a mortal title, it was perplexing to consider. A personal assistant to God. And here I had been taught that He was all mighty. But when you have an entire world to manage, the task had to be too vast for one being. Funny how my religious beliefs as a living being were minimal and yet, here I was, vying for a spot in the most sought after residence beyond death. That wasn't to say that the pits of Hell weren't open wide and awaiting my arrival. I was dead, I wasn't ignorant.
"Gabby?"
Shaking my head from my internal thoughts, I was brought back to the here and now by the soothing, even-toned voice of the man before me. Ernest. The judge, the shrink, the PA.
"Sorry. I...uhm, was thinking..." I answered, landing abruptly in my present situation.
"Of course. I understand."
"Right. Well, no. I wasn't able to make