The Swallows H.S

7

A/N: to be completely honest, I had a whole plot and planned everything out for this whole thing. It's not coming out the way I wanted it. So I will continue to write and it may be not the best but I'll just write for fun! So sorry if it's kind of weird and confusing. I'll try to make it interesting and easy to read! Okay enjoy!

Chapter 7

"Who the fuck is Vincent?" I crossed my arms.

    "Are you going to believe me?"

    No, I thought. "Maybe." I waited.

    He took a deep breath and sat down on my bed again. "I did a Ouija board." he started. This made me remember the conversation I had with Sam, the Day we visited Harry at the hospital. "When we did the board, it was fun and innocent. Well," He paused. "It was fun for Niall. Sam and I were skeptical and scared." He ran his hand through his hair.

    "The game isn't just a game. We asked it if it was a good spirit."

    "And it said?" I asked.

    "No. Then we asked for its name. It replied Vincent." Harry's eyes met mine. Those eyes are like daggers. He was gonna swing at me at any moment.

    "Harry you're not making sense." I dropped my stance. I was going to step out of the room until his voice made me jump and stop in my place.

    "Yes, I am! Montana! It started counting down from ten." His voice cracked. "And once it hit one, I don't remember anything after that. I woke up in a hospital bed."

    I stepped closer to him and put my hands on his shoulders. "Ever since that night you came over, we both haven't been sleeping well. I don't know what happened." His head dropped. "Regardless Harry, we both are exhausted. We need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow, okay?" I smiled slightly. Not forgetting that the man in front of me was evil.

    His head lifted and he looked into my eyes. "You don't believe me? Don't you?"

    I sighed, "Harry, I am so sleep-deprived, I don't even know if this is really happening or if you're just a figure of my imagination and I'm just talking to my Zayn Malik poster." I smile. "Let's talk tomorrow and we can have a real conversation, instead of a screaming match. Not to mention my dad is working the graveyard tonight and if he randomly comes home, I don't want him to hear me screaming at a random guy in my room."

    He nodded and stood up, towered over me. "Okay."

    "Okay."

    He walked to my door and then stopped. He turned slightly, "Can I stay here?"

    "No. My dad would kill me if he found out." Harry could kill me if I let him.

    "Please Montana." he turned all the way to face me. His face begged.

    No No No.

    "Harry why can't you go home and sleep. Wouldn't you be more comfortable there?"

    He sighed. "I can't sleep there. I can't sleep alone. Ever since that night, if I'm alone then I just don't sleep. I feel like something will happen. Like I won't wake up."

    His face was not the smooth guy he put on for everyone else. It was the scared, rain-soaked runaway I let sleepover once.  "Last time you were here, you talked in your sleep and rocked back and forth. You didn't look like you were sleeping."

    "It's better than not sleeping at all. I'll even sleep on the floor like before." He begged.

    No, Montana. He is a murderer who just told you that he murdered someone but also didn't. He was going to kill you in your sleep. The bags under his eyes were so deep, it almost seemed believable. I can't wrap my head around it, and I felt my eyes start to fall. I can feel myself starting to fall asleep sitting up.