Lovers Rock

4

CW: blood

Ever since that night on the beach, I haven't seen Cordelia. It's not like I expect to see her around town, since I never did until she booked that tour. I suppose I just thought we had a moment but, maybe I was wrong. I could've sworn, with the way she looked at me, the way she talked to me... I felt it. The tension was practically tangible in the air.

Yet, based on her absence, it seems I misjudged the situation. I shouldn't feel—well I shouldn't feel anything. It's not like we were together, she didn't even explicitly say she liked me. Although, that doesn't make much of a difference to my mind. I'm overreacting, it's only been a week at most. I know I'm overthinking, it's a dangerous game.

So why do I feel like a piece is missing without her? I'm trying to focus, I'm at work and I need to be alert but, I feel scattered. It makes me anxious how much I seem to have attached myself to her. If I really think about it, I brought this on myself. I may not have known her, or her intentions, but I know myself well enough to have prevented this.

I willingly let her lead me and I didn't think to look back. I was so focused on the present that—for a split second—I forgot about the past. I look up to see that the last of the people have gotten off the boat. I check the time on my phone and see that I'm done for the day. I don't wanna go home, I don't need to relax, it'll only lead me further down the rabbit hole.

I crank the boat back up, driving off towards one of the islands. I figure an adventure might take my mind off things. As I get closer, I slow down before coming to a stop right next to the shore. I release the anchor to secure it and take my shoes off before hoping down, the bottom of my pants getting wet. I roll them up as I reach the sand and take a deep breath.

I venture further up the beach, stopping at a small dune and taking a seat. I thought I might go into the woodsy area but now that I'm here, I just feel the weight on me. I plop down and sigh to myself, realizing I can't escape this. This whole thing is like a bitter taste in my mouth. My skin prickles with goosebumps as I think about her. The thought that she doesn't feel the same, sends an unsettling chill down my spine.

There's no way I should be having such a visceral reaction to a casual acquaintance. It's as if I've forgotten how to handle these situations. Like all the progress I've worked on has just been wiped clean from the slate. I let her in my mind and now I look like a fool. I'm not saying I wished to have never met her, I enjoyed our time together and would very likely do it over again.

However, I can't help but feeling like I somehow fucked it up. Without her to tell me otherwise, my mind jumps to hefty conclusions. I know there's no use in crying over spilled milk, it's nothing I can change. After all, it's just my mind and—though I can't change it—I can try and get around it. Yet it won't leave my head, the moments we shared.

The way her arm so comfortably wrapped around my waist, as if it came natural to her. It's not suppose to hurt like this, we'd barely known each other long enough to be friends. Right? So why is she the only person I want to talk to right now? I'll admit, I resented her the first day or two. Only to realize that the reason for my irritation was because I missed her.

It feels pathetic to feel this way, when I'm sure she couldn't care less. I feel like I've sat in this for long enough, so I get up, feeling a bit lighter than before. I return to the boat and head back to the dock, parking it and getting off. It doesn't help that I also feel like I'm being watched. It's probably just my paranoia as usual, not to mention my mind hasn't been all the way 'there' recently.

Maybe it's my subconscious wanting Cordelia with me. Trying to comfort me, by giving the impression that she's watching over me? Whatever it is, I don't like it. I lock up the office and head home, rushing through my routine so I can get in bed. As I lay there, staring at the column of dim light cast across the ceiling, I sigh deeply.

I can't expect Cordelia to fix this, it's a personal problem. It's so embarrassing that I can't just get a grip. I know it's my own issues getting the best of me. As much as I like to deny it, I thrive off chaos. It's tiring but also comforting in a way, as it's all I've ever known. The dysfunction gives me purpose, a meaning, something to work on.

However, I know it's not healthy. It's not practical or logical to crave such things and, deep down, I don't. It's just familiar, what I'm accustomed to, but that doesn't make it right. I've been through too much, overcome too much, to fall into old patterns again. As I'm about to close my eyes, I hear a noise just outside my window.

My head swivels in that direction and I stare at it. There's nothing there, not even a shadow. This has been happening every night and it's beginning to worry me. At first I thought that I was just hearing things but, now I'm not so sure. I slowly reach for my phone and take it carefully in my hands, going to my notes and selecting one.

I've been writing this down since the first time as an account. It just helps me feel more in control and, as I look back at it, I feel something drop in my stomach. They've always been around the same time, within 5 minutes of each other. If I had any sort of doubt before, I definitely don't now. I go to my phone app, periodically glancing at the window, and call the sheriff's office.

After a few rings, someone picks up and I recall the situation in a hushed tone. They assure me they'll check it out and I thank them before hanging up. I don't take my eyes off the window for even a second, until I hear a knock on my front door. My head swiftly turns yet again and I feel my breathing pick up. What if it's them? I slowly rise and tiptoe to the kitchen, grabbing the biggest knife I have.

I quietly make my way to the door, the knocking getting louder. I look through the peephole to see Walter and my eyebrows furrow in confusion. I unlock the door quickly and hold my hand that wields the knife behind it. "Walter?" I say, indirectly asking what the hell he's doing at my house so late. "Well, good evening to you too. I checked out the noise, there was nothing there" he insists which further confuses me.

"I'm the sheriff" he adds, probably sensing or seeing my bewilderment. "Oh... ok then. Thank you" I say and he merely nods before turning his back on me, walking away. I slowly close the door, locking both top and bottom, before heading to the kitchen. I return the knife to the wooden holder and grab a glass out the cabinet. As I sip on some water, I think to myself.

This whole night has been the strangest I've experienced here. I know Walter isn't the most sociable person but, something was off. Which, if you knew him, you'd find concerning. He's always been strange, at least he has with me, but tonight even more so. I know he said there was nothing there but his eyes were not agreeing.

He seemed almost... shaken? Mind you, this is a man I've only ever known to hold a blank—almost lifeless—expression. It also suddenly occurs to me that I never saw him pass the window. I mean, sure, he could've looked from the ground since the porch is slightly elevated. That's a logical explanation but, I also don't feel very logical right now.

Out of nowhere I hear a cracking noise and next thing I know, there's glass all over the floor. I hiss in pain, turning my hand palm up to see blood begin to drip across the creases. Little pieces of glass stuck into my skin, remnants of what was once a cup. I groan to myself as I carefully step over the broken shards and make my way to the sink.

I turn on the water, wincing as the cold liquid hits my skin. I take a deep breath to brace myself before removing the little pieces. Once I'm done, I pull open a drawer and grab the first aid kit. With my good hand, I take out gauze and tape. The wounds being too spread out for a bandaid. I hurriedly disinfect it and wrap it up, grabbing pain meds as a preemptive measure.

I slowly sweep up the glass, discarding it in the trash, my hand beginning to throb. I grab a plastic cup this time, filling it with water to take the meds and carrying it back with me to bed. I fall into the bed, a huff of breath escaping me. I feel exhausted now and I haven't even done anything. As I struggle to get comfortable, my mind continues to race.

Despite my physical fatigue, my mind will not let me rest. I was uncertain about a lot before tonight and now I'm even more unsure. However, one thing has been made very clear to me. Something is going on in this town... and I wanna know what it is.