Revenge. [h.s]

03

Alyssa Valentine

Fear.

Fear is a rational thing to feel in moments between life and death. It's almost certain that everyone will feel it in those situations. How can you not feel fear? It's engraved in everyone's soul to feel it thousands of times in our lives.

It's a type of emotion that people have grown used to feeling, whether it's pleasant or not.

But the type of fear I feel in this moment is beyond anything anyone could ever be used to feeling.

It's like that singular moment played on a loop in my mind a million times, all in the span of twenty seconds. That evil smile. Those piercing green eyes that completely bore into my soul. That husky accent that I was not expecting to ring through my ears.

He was young. Maybe even around my age. This entire time I thought it was some old aged, psychotic guy, yet it was actually just a twenty something year old, who's clearly mentally unstable.

Why is he doing this?

He stares at me awaiting my answer. That goddamn fucking smile not leaving his lips as I stare at him in pure horror at the question he had the nerve to ask me.

Am I completely horrified that the people I trusted with my life, easily threw it away? Absolutely. And I'll never forgive them for this.

But revenge?

Do I want revenge?

"You're sick." I spit out through clenched teeth, still holding the weapon in my hands.

Maybe a smart person would use this to their advantage right now. Maybe a smart person would stab this guy straight in the stomach and make a fucking sprint for it. But the only thing I have the strength to move right now is my mouth.

My body feels shaky, yet completely frozen. It's like I'm in a complete state of shock where I don't even know how to respond or react. The tears continue to flood my cheeks, yet no sobs leave my mouth. I feel completely distraught. Completely traumatised.

In a million years, I could have never predicted that this is where I would stand at a point in my life.

He doesn't even bother to respond to me — he just continues to smile at me with that wide, dimpled smile, his extremely long hair falling over his features and casting shadows from the light that illuminates behind him.

I clutch the knife tightly in my hand by my side, my bottom lip quivering as I continue to wait for any type of reaction.

Please. Please someone save me.

"You seem scared." He finally murmurs, a devilish grin on his lips as a deep dimple punctures the skin of his cheek.

I hesitantly shake my head.

"N-no. You don't scare me." I breathe out, a large part of me knowing I'm lying.

I'm terrified.

But maybe if he believes I'm tough and not fearful, he'll believe I'm worthy of being let go.

A chuckle escapes through his lips. "Really? I didn't scare you?" He challenges, stepping a singular step forward.