The Donna Rose Buried in the Snow Chapter 05

The Donna Rose Buried in the Snow Chapter 05

After one night, Damien got worse. 

More volatile. More unhinged. 

“It was these hands…” 

He suddenly raised them, eyes filled with terror. 

Like they didn’t belong to him. 

Like they were weapons drenched in blood. 

“These hands tied Alison up in the snow…” 

“Left her there… until she froze into ice…” 

He slammed his hands against the nightstand. 

The glass vase shattered. 

Shards cut into his arm. 

Blood spilled. 

But he didn’t seem to feel it. 

He kept hitting. 

Again. 

And again. 

Until his arms were covered in wounds. 

Blood dripped from his fingers. 

Pooling on the floor. 

Mixing with melted snow. 

Spreading into dark stains. 

I floated beside him, watching him tear himself apart. 

But I didn’t feel relief. 

Just emptiness. 

He didn’t suddenly regret anything. 

He just couldn’t face the truth–that he killed me with 

his own hands. 

The girl who revolved around him. 

Who treated his words like law. 

Who smiled and forgave him–even when he ignored 

her. 

She was gone. 

Forever. 

For the next three days, he locked himself in the 

bedroom. 

No one was allowed in. 

Mr. Grayson, the butler, tried to get him to eat. 

Silence. 

Mrs. Andersen tried to clean. 

He screamed, “Get out!” 

His voice was hoarse. 

Unrecognizable. 

The curtains stayed shut. 

The room stayed dark. 

Sometimes he sat at the edge of the bed, staring into nothing. 

Sometimes he curled up in the corner, holding my clothes. 

Like a lost child. 

I watched him fall apart. 

Day by day. 

His eyes sank deeper. 

Dark circles carved into his face. 

Stubble crept along his jaw. 

His once–perfect hair turned messy. 

Sometimes he picked up my journal. 

Flipped to a random page. 

His fingers traced my handwriting. 

Careful. 

Gentle. 

Tears fell silently, smearing the ink. 

“Alison… I was wrong…” 

He whispered. 

So soft it barely existed. 

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” 

“I shouldn’t have ignored you.” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone in the snow…” 

He started talking to the air. 

Like I was still there. 

“You like sunrises, right?” 

“I’ll go wait on the mountain tomorrow.” 

“Will you come back… and watch it with me?” 

“You love cod fish cakes, right?” 

“I had Maria make them.” 

“On your favorite blue plate.” 

“Come back and eat… okay?” 

But the only answer–was the wind outside. 

On the third evening, Mr. Grayson couldn’t take it 

anymore. 

He unlocked the door. 

The smell hit first. 

Blood. 

Rot. 

Damien sat on the floor, holding a shard of glass. 

He pressed it against his wrist. 

His eyes were empty. 

“Don! What are you doing?!” 

“You can’t hurt yourself like this!” 

“And Donna… she already… you should be preparing 

her funeral…” 

Damien looked up. 

Saw him. 

And suddenly, he broke down like a child, crying 

uncontrollably. 

“Grayson… I killed Alison…” 

“I can’t face her parents…” 

“I can’t forgive myself…” 

Mr. Grayson’s eyes turned red. 

He had watched Damien grow up. 

From a proud boy to a ruthless man who controlled 

everything. 

But he had never seen him like this. 

“Don… Donna is gone.” 

“Torturing yourself won’t bring her back.” 

His voice was heavy. 

But steady. 

“Right now, what you need to do is stay alive and make 

things right for Donna, for Miss Hayes, and for her 

parents–not hurt yourself like this.” 

Damien froze. 

Tears still hung on his face. 

But he stopped shouting. 

He looked at Mr. Grayson. 

Then at his own blood–covered hands. 

And suddenly, he collapsed. 

“Make things right…” 

“How am I supposed to do that…” 

His voice was hollow. Powerless. 

Then something flashed through his mind. 

He shot to his feet.