“It was only a question,” Amber argued. Her head was buried in her bag, her back against the wall. Every now and then she would growl under her breath as she struggled to find her phone.
She had been complaining about a girl in her psychology class for the last fifteen minutes. But when I’d asked what had freaked the girl out so much, she had become suspiciously defensive. I had a feeling she wasn’t as innocent as she made out.
“It’s how you get to know people.” Her head resurfaced, a stubborn frown marring her pretty face.
With a sideways glance in her direction, I pulled the slice of pizza away from my mouth and shook my head. “It’s how you get charged with harassment.”
Her hand came up and slapped my arm. “Whatever,” she said, face twisted in annoyance. She paused to stick a chip her mouth, chewing in thought. “It’s not like I asked to touch her book.” A dark chuckle rose form her throat. “If I had, she would’ve had a reason to moan.”
My own moan was one of disgust. "You're disgusting."
“It’s a gift,” she sang.
Over a few weeks, this had become somewhat of a routine. I would hide out in the corridor, and Amber would later arrive with a bribe that may or may not be pizza. Her constant chatter and dark humour was a new soundtrack to my life. She wasn’t sweet, she wasn’t kind, and if she noticed that I was miserable she didn’t attempt to comfort me. Instead, she’d just tilt her head to the side and watch me, like a confused little robot seeing emotion for the first time.
She’d started to grow on me. Like mould, only slightly more appealing.
“I don’t care how much you complain, know you secretly love me. But even if you change your mind - you’re stuck with me now indefinitely.” Her smile was smug, as she stretched her legs across the corridor and dropped her head back against the wall.
“So I had a choice before now?”
Amber’s head twisted and she stared at me with half-lidded eyes.
“You’re too funny. But you always had a choice. I just gave you a kick up the arse to make sure you made the right one.”
My eyes became a heavy squint. “And that was being friends with you?”
She hummed in agreement, head rolling back and eyes slipping shut. “Just you wait – we’ll be buying each other friendship bracelets in no time.”
“I don’t wear jewellery.” I bit the words out around gritted teeth. If she noticed the sharpness, her simple shrug didn’t let on.
“I don’t use tampons. This is good. We should get to know each other more.” Eyes still closed, head still tilted to the ceiling, she raised one perfect eyebrow in consideration. “Shall we go cliché and do twenty questions or go old school with truth or dare?”
My fingers began to twitch against my thigh. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on Red Rose,” she said with a scoff. “What do you say? Let’s play a game.”
I hadn’t expected that sentence to affect me as much as it did. Hadn’t expected it to make the walls crumble, the ground shake, and to stop the movement in my body. I was choking for air before I realised I’d even stopped breathing.
“The hell? Rose, are you dying?”
I tried to shake my head but my neck couldn’t support it. The slightest shift made my head pound harder. My hands came up to clasp the sides of my head, fingers catching in blonde knots.
He can’t hurt me anymore. Cant’ hurt me anymore. Can’t hurt me.
During panic attacks, I did one of three things: fight, flee, or fall. And I couldn’t let Amber see me fall.
“Headache,” I hissed, because speaking was too difficult. The word came out more garbled than I’d expected, and Amber’s wide eyes were the last thing I saw before everything started to blur.
Scrambling to my feet, I could barely mumble another excuse as my shaky footsteps drummed against my skull.
“Rose? Rose!” She yelled after me. “Where are you going?”
I didn’t know.
But there were people everywhere. I stumbled past a group of guys crowded around the main doors. They were automatic and old, so it took a while for them the slide open, and each millisecond I felt my consciousness slip further and further. I was hunched over when I stood outside, the cold air smacking me in the face.
Eyes watering, I walked until my body was too heavy. I was in the middle of the small grassy section that divided the building from the carpark. My body collapsed by the lonely tree that bent towards the top, the branches roofing over my fallen limbs. I was trembling when my eyes slid shut on the horizontal world, my closed throat protesting as I started to hum our song, a few hoarse, broken lyrics escaping my mouth.
“Heaven in her eyes… laughter sounds like music… in the rain… her dreams are made of symphonies…”
Slowly, my body hummed into a somewhat peaceful state. A bittersweet smile slipped onto my lips as my vision returned in trembling tendrils. I watched as few people loitered around their cars and filtered along pathways. By the side of the building, hidden under a tree that was almost as pathetic as me, I was hidden from the world. Or at least, I thought I was.
It wasn’t until I felt that itching sensation against my skin that I realised I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought.
“Is it really that bad?”
My heart dropped out of my chest. I looked back and saw him. A shadowed guy dressed in black, looking like a cliché from a vampire novel, stood tall in the distance. There was a dangerous energy that danced around him, thickening the air between us. His eyes were intense through the thick strands of black hair that fell across his forehead in unkempt waves.
He wore a black denim jacket, beaten and old, and there was a knowing tilt to his full lips. Everything about him was sharp and jagged, from the angles of his cheekbones to the tightness of his jaw. As he spoke again, his voice was low and throaty; drive by the same deep power that emanated from him.
“I’ve seen a lot of people break down, but none of them ever sung.”
This time, it was his words that scared me. I felt sick, dizzy, weak. He’d heard me. He was stood there, hands in his pockets, back against the tree, whilst I’d been on the ground in my weakest of moments. He’d heard me sing.
“I-“ I eyes shut tight in pain, as I struggled to find something, anything, that I could say to make the moment any less horrific. When I looked back at him, I willed myself to speak. “What are you doing here?”
The guy didn’t answer as he pushed from his stance and took a step forwards. I instinctively leaned back, eyes wide as they flittered around in search of an escape route. He paused in his advance, the wicked stillness to his features faltering ever so slightly. “Are you afraid?”
“A little,” I whispered.
“Of me?”
When I made no movement, no sound, his expression became perplexed. We found ourselves caught in an inescapable silence. A silence that was broken as he took another step closer. My heart began to pound as he continued to stare. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I dove to my feet and gripped my bag tighter and tighter until my knuckles her white. We faced one another, both tense, one of us weak and the other strong.
He’d heard me sing.
I took a hesitant step back, aware that he was watching. “I should go,” I said, my voice brimming with urgency. I looked towards the door, and to my dismay I realised that I’d have to walk past him to get inside. I took another step back, ready to run.
He stood tall above me, rich-toned eyes cast down into my own. Panic had already settled into my bones, my instincts demanding I flee and my body twitching with the urge to obey. There was a spark in his eyes, and I watched it dance as I took my third, cautious step back.
“You are afraid of me.” His eyebrows rose at his own admission. He took another step forward and my face lost all colour. I thought I was going to faint, the world became dizzy and my heart stuttered.
One more step, and then I would run. One more step.
But I faltered, stumbled, and it was then that his arms reached out for me. I stiffened like a defensive animal fearing for its life. In the distance, there was the slam of a car door being closed. It made my heartbeat spike, and everything seemed to slow down.
His expression had changed; his eyes were darker, his face was tighter. He went to grab me again and I lost all thought but one. Can’t hurt me.
I turned to run, and he swore under his breath. My feet were on the road before I could even let out the breath I’d been holding. The crunch of gravel, the blare of a horn, and suddenly I was encased in a heated hold, thick arms enveloping my body, pulling me into a well-defined chest.
My air left my lungs in a long, slow motion, as the silver car flew pas in a roar, one last angry beep filling the silence that surrounded us. We stood at the edge of the road, as I stared at the dark denim of his jacket in shock.
I couldn’t move. His body was hot, but my blood was cold in my vein. In the distance was the chatter of students, the thrum of vehicles, and the rush of the wind. But in his arms, all I was aware of was the silence and the pounding of our hearts.
I almost got hit by a car, my mind screamed. I’d stepped into the road and almost gotten myself run over in the midst of panic. And now, I was trapped in the arms of a stranger.
He grunted as his arms tightened for a second before they went slack. I almost melted when he released me, my legs quaking as I stepped away. My stomach curled as I looked away from him, sweat beginning to dampen the dirty blonde strands of my hairline.
When I looked back, he was still there, emotionless, watching. I whimpered, tears burning the rims of my eyes. I felt like a fool, a coward, and that made me want to run away even more. Below me, the earth shook as a headache began to hammer at the inside of my skull.
“You should be more careful,” he said, voice deep and chilling. His body writhed as he effortlessly scooped up my book-laden bag and held it out for me to take. I was barely aware of my action as I hoisted it over my shoulder, reluctant to look up at him.
My nod was a mere jerk of my head, as I made a move to leave.
But he wasn’t finished. “It’s a dangerous world out there.” I froze, and my eyes finally rose to look at him. He looked me up and down, a slow perusal that made me feel like that defensive animal once again. My skin itched at the feeling of being watched. “And it would be all too easy for somebody like you to get hurt.”
There was nothing I could say, but I wasn’t able to speak anyway. I was finding it difficult to breath. My nod was stiff, and so was his expression. Even as I walked away, my mind numb and my body weak, that itch never faded. It lingered for the rest of the day, always there no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.
Night was falling faster.
It was barely four-thirty and already the sun had set and the streets were barren. The streets were dark and as miserable as my mood, my footsteps slow and steady on the pavement. The lingering tenderness from my headache remained inside my head, and I could think of nothing else but my eagerness to get home and for the day to be over already.
It had been a long day.
But it hadn't ended yet.
Because as I walked the empty streets, my skin began to crawl. That familiar burning itch spread across the nape of my neck, and my next footstep faltered.
It’s your mind playing tricks on you; an aftershock of that panic attack. It’s nothing you haven’t been through already. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, the sensation never left.
My hands began to tremble and I cursed myself for stopping. Lips pressed in a hard, thin line, I concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other - over and over, until my footfalls were a mass of hurried thuds against the ground.
I should have taken the shortcut through the park, but after seeing the shadow with Lucas and Ella that time, I'd been too afraid to go back. Especially on my own.
But you're not alone, my wicked mind taunted. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. One step in front of the other, over and over and over. Don't stop. Speed up. Try not to make it too obvious. Only now, I was already walking faster. One street, one corner, and then I’d be almost home. So close.
Then I heard them – footsteps, and the faint sound of heavy breathing. Bile burned my throat, and I gulped hard. I abandoned my senses, tightened my grip on my bag, and ran. Hard, fast, desperate; my eyes wide and vulnerable to the sharp winds. Gasps fell from my lips at a constant speed. Behind me, the footsteps increased. Shoes hit the ground at a confident, hurried pace much faster than my own.
Home didn't seem so close anymore.
My run became frantic, as they took chase. My slow walk home became a hunt, and as always I was the prey. Cold tears streamed down my cheeks. Nothing but the sparse, faint streetlights filled the path ahead as I sprinted for safety.
He was back. He'd found me.
I'm going to die.
I couldn't breathe. Cruel laughter and sickening words clouded my reality. I almost skidded into the road as I spun around the corner. They were close. I could see the formation of a shadow as it crept upon the pavement. I pushed on, urged the final stretched. Tears transformed my vision into a blur.
My body hammered into the front door. Key ready, it clicked into the lock. My hands shook as I pulled on the handle and I fell inside with a cry of relief. As I slammed the door shut, I refused to look up. I could barely breathe as I locked the door and put the chain into position.
Deep breathes, in, out, in, out. I slid to the floor, back against the wooden barrier that hid me from the horrors outside. My skin was damp with sweat, aching from exercise. Adrenaline pumped through my body, thick as molasses. I have to call the cops. That thought made my heart stop.
It was going to happen all over again.
I'd have to tell mum, tell Lucas. They'd be crushed. Our lives would be ruined and we'd probably have to move again.
My fingers trembled as they ran over the raised skin on the insides of my wrists. Soft fingertips against rough scars. I was a mess, and I couldn't bring them down with me. I pictured Ella's laughter, Mum's hugs, Lucas' smiles - all wiped away because of my stupid mistakes. Maybe it was a mistake.
Maybe it was all just a mistake. I had no way of knowing that I was being chased. It could have been anybody out there.
I'd almost convinced myself, almost relaxed. And then, there was a knock on the door. It pierced the heavy gasps of my breathing, reverberated within my head.
My body was still, my lungs burning as I strained my ears to listen. I heard the; the faint thuds of footsteps, pacing outside the door. I pressed a fist to my mouth to hold back the scream that threatened to rise. My other hand grasped at my stomach as I tried not to throw up.
The pacing stopped. A cloak of silence blanketed the atmosphere. I sat there, feeling dirty and broken as I finally dragged my body away from the door. I hovered against the wall beside it, where I tried to push myself upon to my feet. My limbs wouldn't work. They felt like lead. I became so focused on the struggle to stand, that I was surprised at the deafening sound of the letter box opening.
My legs collapsed under me.
When the letter box opened, I expected a gun, a knife, a hand.
Anything, but the single slip of paper that slipped through.
I stared at it, transfixed, as it fell onto the scratchy welcome mat. I couldn't touch it, couldn't even get close to it. But I didn't have to. Where it had landed, two words could be seen; two words written in dark red ink, each letter sharp and threatening.
Found you.
ns 15.158.61.41da2
