The Crystal 2 by Jones M (top ten books to read txt) 📖

must have after the horrible ordeal I had gone through with Harry and Zane. I remember feeling so much pain and the hatred I had for those two and everyone who had betrayed me.

That must have been what pushed me over the edge.

My mind went back to the memories of the previous day, feeling regretful for my actions. I was shocked by what I did, but I was more shocked by what had happened minutes before I passed out.

I started crying for the fourth time that day as I remembered Ashley. She was a good friend to me, and I had killed her. 

There was no doubt about it; I recalled the sickening sounds when I threw her to the wall. Her form had lain so still, and she could have died from internal bleeding and many broken bones.

It was all my fault. I didn't mean for her to die. I never wanted her to die!

I continued to cry over the mess of things I had made. Killing Ashley was one of my regrets. Apart from that, I remembered summoning erboons and leading them to Crystalia. I also remembered breaking the magical dome that should have surely protected everyone from me.

Those poor witches.

Remembering the encounters I had with the erboons, I was certain they had killed many witches. They had the advantage of numbers and height, and they could attack without anyone noticing.

As a result of all the crap I had done, I felt sure that every witch was thirsty for my blood. People wanted me dead for killing their loved ones and ruining their city. 

It must have been why I was kept in the castle. They wanted to kill me, and so they did not want me to escape. 

But why place me in my room? Did they want me to feel too comfortable so they could easily execute me with little resistance?

The thought brought a fresh onset of tears. My form shook as the sobs racked through me.

Even though I was a crystal, my power wouldn't be enough to hold them back. In fact, it would hurt me more if I was forced to kill them.

I stood up and shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts, walking towards the suite's bathroom as I blinked away the tears. 

The bathroom had a tub, a shower and a toilet seat situated on the side. Neither did I mind the structure of it nor admire the beauty of the white tiles around me.

I looked around, coming to a stop when I spotted white cabinets. I opened one. I looked around, noticing white and blue towels, a couple of shampoo bottles, and unexpectedly, shaving materials. That had also included something I had not seen in a while.

Razor blades. 

My eyes practically widened when I saw them. They were still in their neat wrapping, so they were new. 

The sharp objects sparked memories that I never wanted to be repeated. As if someone in the universe was against me, my mind chose to replay the events of the past two days.

I clutched my head, trying to shake them off, but they kept coming.  

Murderer.

That word had me directing my attention back to the razor blades. Without a second thought, I quickly undressed and took one of them. My heart was pounding as I unwrapped it, revealing its gray form.

For a moment, I just stood staring at it. It slightly shone in the bathroom lights, and the sharp edges were also brought out. Memories of how I used the blades to relieve me of my pain came back to me.

My eyes turned to the tub. Without a second thought, I opened the taps. I spent the minutes that took the tub to be filled staring at the razor. It almost felt good to land my eyes upon it.

Just looking at it had my heart thudding in excitement over what I planned to do.

I closed the taps before entering the tub. The water was freezing, but the memories of what I had done did not urge me to get out. 

I remained seated in the water, feeling it splash across my chin when I shifted to sit well. My focus was on the pale yellow wall in front of me as my thoughts ran wild. The room was silent, but the memories were not.

I recalled the yells, the screams and the sounds of terror and pain. 

In fact, I heard more words hurled at me in my mind.

Murderer, bitch, worthless, useless...

My eyes zeroed in on the razor blade I had placed on the floor. I slowly reached for it, and I soon found myself staring at the gray object.

I could not believe I was back to it again. The last time I did it was because I had been scarred emotionally after all the bullying I went through. My mother had wanted me to undergo therapy so that I could be okay again. It took a long while, and I recalled what my therapist said about the dangers of what I planned to do. I had despised it then, but I had currently changed my mind.

If my mother were to see me in such a state, I knew she would feel disappointed in me.

I was a disappointment to everyone.

The thought had me tearing up, and I quickly placed a side of the blade on the skin near my wrist. It just rested there, and I hesitated to cut myself.

Wow, Emery. Look at you. You look so weak right now. No wonder everyone was quick to leave you.

Honestly, it was weird to have those thoughts back in my mind. I guessed it was a side effect of all the mean tweets posted about me on Twitter that lasted for months. 

It's your fault, my own voice spoke in my mind, and I felt my heart clench. It's your own damn fault that bad things happened to you.

"Stop," I called out even though there was no one in the room. I looked around the white room, the water splashing as I moved until I stopped and stared at the wall in front of me. I wanted the voice to stop speaking, but it wouldn't, even though I knew it was right.

The guys may blame themselves for how things went horribly for you, but you know that's not true. Why do you even bother blaming them? Why are you even blaming the ones who obviously hate you? Why, Emery? Are you looking for people to blame for your own flaws?

"I told you to stop," I said. It was getting hard to ignore it.

Are you even going to deny everything I'm saying? What? You can't even defend yourself you needy bitch?

"Shut up!" I yelled, glaring at nothing.

No, I won't shut up. It's your own damn fault! All this time, it was all your fault. You could have left the tour, Emery. You shouldn't have accepted to join it with Selena in the first place! Thought it was going to be rainbows and sunshine, right? Well, Bianca proved you wrong. In fact, if you had earlier exposed Bianca's crimes, none of this stuff would have happened! You wouldn't have been here, alone with people looking for you so they could kill you.

I sobbed as tears flowed out of my eyes. The voice was right; it was always right. Why did I keep the evidence until the day I planned to leave the tour? I felt stupid for even deciding to postpone releasing it in the first place.

Do you know how many times you were an idiot? Do you remember what you planned eight months ago? You wanted to expose Bianca while she was on tour with you and the boys. Your stupid ass waited, and that landed you in jail. 

The voice laughed.

What did you expect? She knew you were going to look through her stuff, and so she cut you lose, Emery.

The tears kept coming.

What else? You could have had Bianca arrested weeks ago. But instead, you decided to wait until the erwiches were dead. You could have ended the torture, Emery. You could have ended it days before Zane and Harry got their hands on you.

"Shut... up..." I trailed off between sobs.

You could have gotten away with the problems if only you had not been such a stupid bitch. Hear that, Emery? You're a stupid fucking bitch that depends on everyone she loves to be there for her.

I sank lower into the tub, still crying.

Were they even there for you? Do you even remember the day you were arrested for something you never did? Do you even remember the harsh words they told you and the way they ignored your pleas of innocence?

I held the blade to the skin of my left wrist.

Do you want to know why? It's because you are nothing. You have always been nothing.

I quickly placed the first cut. I watched without tensing or feeling pain as the skin tore before blood had started to ooze.

That's right, Emery. You are nothing, and you will always be nothing. That's why everyone was so eager to hate you! That's why your stupid self was taken advantage of and everyone was so quick to turn their backs on you.

I added two more cuts below the first one. The blood slowly flowed along the arm before dripping into the water in the tub.

And whether or not you turned yourself evil, does it even matter? In fact, that was a horrible decision you stupid bitch! Did you think their opinions about you would have changed if you became evil? Do you think they would have cared about what you said? Do you even remember what those women said about you in the morning?

I went to the other wrist, adding an extra cut just so to ignore the words in my mind.

Erick was thinking about killing you. Killing you, Emery! That's how much you meant to them. I bet they were going to pretend to like you like they did in the beginning before betraying you, again, by killing you. What do you think they would have done? I think they would have tortured you just like you did to them. They will tell you what I already know: you are worthless!

I lay in the tub, watching as the water turned red within seconds from the blood that was oozing. I felt a little light-headed as I stared at the sight in front of me. I wanted the pain and the regrets to go away, but nothing seemed to be working.

I still felt the anger and sadness directed towards me. I had been crying for a while; crying over my stupidity, crying over my regrets and crying over my gullibility. I tried to make the feeling go away, but it was still there.

My sobs racketed and echoed in the bathroom, reminding me that I was a weak, stupid girl who meant nothing to everyone.

You know, Emery, I wonder about poor Ashley.

It was back again. The voice was back again. Didn't it know that I had endured enough? Didn't it know that I was depressed already?

"Shut up," I mumbled quietly.

She did nothing wrong. She was trying to help, but you killed her. You killed her, Emery. You killed the only person who was willing to be your friend! How does it feel, Emery? How does it feel to know you're a blood-thirsty killer?

"SHUT UP!" I yelled at the voices, clutching my head while vigorously shaking it in denial.

It's your damn fault that she's dead, Emery! You ruined everything you stupid bitch! She had her whole life in front of her, and you just cut it off! No notice. Just cut it off!

The voice inside my head laughed.

You know, Emery, this is sad. You know it's your damn fault that you are in this mess. You wanted everyone to like you. You wanted everyone to see you had been right all along. You wanted some kind of drama in your life so that everyone could focus on you, and you got it. Only, the kind of drama you got could end up with them killing you. I pity you, Emery. No one cares about you. Haven't