The Sixth Degree of Separation 
chapter IX. Raven
Page 1 of 29
Slowly I peel open my eyes and glance cautiously around the room.
The first thing I notice is that I’m alone. It shouldn’t surprise me, and yet the more I recall, the more I feel my tentative hold on sanity slipping once again.
“Pegasus,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I start to sit up. Of course, he could simply be in the living room, watching television. Or taking a shower. Or making a sandwich. He could have gone for a walk.
I open my eyes again, looking down at my feet as I place them upon the floor. The wind blowing through the curtains caresses my naked body, like fingers of ice. I can hear a tap dripping from down the hall. A clock ticking in one of the rooms. I thought I’d heard the alarm go off this morning, but I’d simply rolled over and gone back to sleep, unable to bear the thought of facing reality again so soon.
This reality.
For the house is entirely empty, of course. Nobody here at all, not even myself.
Guess I finally pushed my luck too far.
I run my hands through my hair as I stand otherwise perfectly still, continuing to glance about the walls. My heart beats very fast in my chest, and from deep within, a terrible aching begins to grow. I am not going to cry. I’m not even going to feel…
What’s the point of even getting up? I should just go back to bed, I tell myself, looking down at the blood-stained sheets, noticing a few strands of purple hair adorning the pillowcases.
I wouldn’t have hurt you, Pegasus. I wouldn’t ever have hurt you. I love you. I just needed…what? To hurt you? No, not that. I shake my head quickly, ever in self-denial.
I needed you to want me as badly as I want you. I don’t understand any of it. I don’t know if any of this is real. I don’t even know what you feel.
