Escaped

Chapter 22 : Please

I walked out of the place and into the car as different emotions filled my senses. This is one of the rare moments where I feel like crying but the tears just won't come and I need it, I need it now. I need to cry and release the overwhelming feelings inside me but I just can't. I covered my face with my now sweaty palm, and try to force myself to cry, only to feel like something's missing. I take my hands off my face and stared at it for a couple of seconds, nothing's missing in my hand; it was in my wrist. The feeling of jogging for a mile or so wasn't enough to compare to what I'm feeling right now, the bracelet-it was gone. The only accessory that I treasured most, the one that Harry gave me, the one that serves as my companion when I got lost in the woods-is gone. I let out few short heavy breaths as I leaned on the seat of my car thinking how could this all happen in one day?

My phone vibrates from inside my pocket and when I pulled it out, it was Harry. Twenty fifth missed call. I don't know why I'm feeling this way, ignoring his calls and not reading his messages breaks my heart into pieces when I have the reasons to be mad at him. I hate him but not enough to fill even half of how I loved him. I don't know if we're going to end everything between us by the end of this day and losing the bracelet that he gave me which means a lot to me is completely devastating.

I started the engine with no idea in my mind where to go, I head south and after a couple of minutes, I found myself standing in front of the door of my old place.

When I entered, every memory flashed back in front of me. Every corner, even the littlest things such as the small notebook and pen on the side table, the mugs and the little notes on the side of the mirror reminds me of him. Back to those times when he visits me everyday, talking and laughing together about rubbish things. I sat on the couch and hugged my knees tightly as tears flow freely down my cheeks, finally able to let the emotions be released.

The room was filled with the sound of my weeping as the events that happened floods through my mind. I was living an almost perfect life, with the fame and getting to do what I love as a job was like living a dream. When I met Harry, I felt more complete. He's clever and he made reasons to break my stubbornness. I felt wretched for what happened to us, I shouldn't have taken us to the lake. And now, things turn out differently that makes it even more confusing. He defended me most of the time, he never want me to get hurt and I saw the concern in his eyes all the time. But what Callie said just swirls in my mind like a poison in my head that kills the images of the Harry that I knew.

I buried my head in between my knees, I remembered when he gave me the bracelet, how we danced under the light of the moon, how his voice was deep and raspy as he said he loves me. And how he says it sweetly even when his lips are bruised and with blood trickling down his cheekbones. He loves me... he loves me. I rocked back and forth, hugging my knees even tighter as my shoulders bounce-crying out his name in the dark.

The door flew open; my heart nearly explodes but quickly recovered when I saw Harry standing by the doorway. He was panting with worried expression on his face. He ran up to me and knelt before me.

"Love I'm so worried, why aren't you answering my calls and-"

I cut him off mid sentence, not wanting to listen to his pretentious act. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I was worried and I was looking for you, I thought you went out to meet her and-"

"Meet Callie? Why? Afraid she might tell me something about you?" I say in a cruel tone.

"W-what?" he says confusedly, a crease forms in between his brows as he stood.

I stood fiercely as a glared at him. "I just went out to talk to her! And you know what? She told me everything!"

"What everything?"

I cannot say it, not in front of him. Instead, I cried as I crash back down on the couch- covering my face as I sob. I felt his arms slowly enveloping me as his face touches the side of my face. I know he's my weakness, like a soft wind that calms me by his touch and even just by his presence, that's why before he could even start with his magic-I snap myself back into reality and pushed him off me.

"I trusted you Harry!" I say, pushing myself off the couch. My voice was hoarse by crying most of the time. "She told me everything; she told me you're with them! And that I cannot trust you!"

"And you believed her?" he says astounded by my words.

I cried even more. I really don't know why I believed her, maybe I really don't. Maybe I was more of upset because of Harry's behavior lately, no, upset would be an understatement. Knowing your loved one lies to you like you weren't capable of figuring out about it was just too much for me. It won't be too much if we weren't talking about kidnapping here.

"I don't understand Harry." My voice was shaky. "I almost died there Harry, I almost got raped and almost got killed by a fucking bear!" his face softened and I swear I know he remembers it. He knocked the filthy man off of me that night. "After I got away from that nightmare woods, you think I'm alright? I'm miserable without you Harry, it's been a month and they told me you were dead! And now you're here," I motioned my arms towards his position, emphasizing his presence. "alive and well. But unfortunately cannot remember everything including me. How nice isn't it?" I say in sarcasm. "I want to send her to jail Harry; I want her to rot in jail. But you have to remember everything. You have to be with me through it all... I won't make it alone."

He walks towards me and tilts my head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were pleading as he stared at me. "Love, I'm sorry."

I slowly shook my head. "I'm tired of your apologies Harry. Please..." I fisted on his shirt. "Please Harry; I need to know the truth. Say something."

He leaned closer, close enough for our foreheads to touch. I can smell his minty breath as he breathes, his nose touches mine and I closed my eyes. I've always wanted him this close to me, but never with this impaired feeling inside me. I sobbed as his silence continues; he's not going to say anything. And silence is a sign of confirmation, the confirmation that I dreaded to visualize.

He rubs his thumb across my cheeks, wiping the tears that continues to stream down, tilts his head to the side and pressed his lips to mine. Once, twice, the third one lasts the longest... waiting for me to respond. No matter how I fought the urge of kissing him back, I failed. My lips parted for him to deepen the kiss, and seconds later I found myself kissing him back in the most passionate way.

Out of breath, we pulled away from our kiss and he whispered: "The truth is, I won't and I will never hurt you Love." And after saying, he planted a kiss on my forehead.