Rina Zante

I stared at the cut on my arm which had a hand in keeping me awake throughout the night. It burned still, but not as bad as before. I could trace a finger across it, and even the densely packed rashes. Same went for my wrist and thigh.

The injuries brought in yesterday's events. The utter confusion and strangeness that had existed.

I'd long known Vincenzo was abnormal. However, the true extent of his problem had been lost to me until yesterday. That guy… He was sick. Mentally disturbed, and here I was in the center of it all.

I don't just get it. He hated me, right?...