Chapter Forty-Three

Celestine hit her shoulder when she felt a mosquito pinching bite. Its blood was on her palm. It's dead.

She grimaced, disgusted by the blood that is on her palm. She looked away from her it and wipe it on the hem of her t-shirt.

The blood in her palm is something that doesn't freak her out anymore like she used to. Seeing blood anywhere becomes a normal scenario for her ever since she met Vincent.

She glance in her palm and even though the blood wasn't there anymore, she can still see it; her hands that is covered by blood. She closed her eyes firmly to keep herself calm but instead of avoiding the idea that her mind had made up for her, she smell the blood. She can smell it. Blood that almost smells like hers, the scent that she's been trying to get out of her system. That smell, it was so familiar.

A shovel suddenly entered her mind. The dried red stain in the shovel is what brings her back to the past that she's been trying to get off of her mind but couldn't.

"Miss, are