I was pale, trembling, staring into distance. I re-read the rusted newspaper for the fourth time hoping the words would somehow change. He was a killer so cold like the icy wraths of insanity-ridden chains. Darkness lurked behind each wall of the extravagant house, and murder hung in the air like a thick fog, creeping through the city, until it finally engulfed it completely. The man, dressed in the black cloak he wore for each pernicious occasion, knew the act of murder well, along with the thrilling chills it brought along. Chelsea was dead. She was found here. In the corner of the basement. Who killed her? Hunter did.
Sweat poured down my body as I stayed still as possible. I almost let out a whimper. I tried not to breath but I knew it was impossible. I was shaking. I felt cold tears start to stream down my face. My life flashed before my eyes. My family, my friends, my school, and Hunter. The Hunter I loved. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind, I opened my mouth but no scream came. My legs felt like jelly and I couldn't move. I closed my eyes tightly and balled my fists knowing I might have to fight for my life.
I cried uncontrollably. I just knew I had to get out. Out of this mess I dragged myself into. I made my decision that I could no longer stay in this situation. I needed to find safety somewhere else. I picked up the same chair I had been tied to for days and tried to smash the window in the first go. I climbed out and landed on glass which cut my knee. I ran as fast as my legs could carry, hoping the beast wouldn't catch up behind me. When I arrived home I stacked up items infront of the door to make it impossible to open. Shivering, I hoped this was all a nightmare.
I've been trying to figure out why love sounds more like an apology than a confession when it comes out of my mouth. I came to the conclusion it's because I have been emotionally unavailable since I learnt that no matter how much you love someone it will not make you miss them. I find myself surrounded by those who have left more than those who have stayed, so often they start to blur together. You once said that loving me is like constantly struggling to come up for air without ever being underwater, but you didn't notice I was suffocating under the absence of everyone who had promised to stay. Someone once told me "leave before they love you, or you'll stay until they don't anymore."
You were writing my name in cement and I was carving yours in trees marked to be cut down, saying "this is what happens when someone ruins you before you have a chance to ruin them." I've fallen in love with you more than I can count, and I'm not sure if that means I have fallen out of love just as many.
