The Heartkeeper (7/28/16)

36 1 3

by tim3andspac3

by tim3andspac3

Prompt: Title prompt. Title is The Heartkeeper.

My head was running faster than my feet were moving. There were twigs being crushed beneath me, their snapping not reaching my ears, as the blood rushing through my adrenaline-filled body pounded in my ears. I was terrified. The feel of hot breath just on my heels was what kept me going. What was that saying people told me when I was young? "Don't go alone, Alexandra. Don't go anywhere alone. Don't run, they feed off your fear. And never- never, let them near your heart. "

I wish I had listened. I was stupid. I fell for his tricks, his swagger- his charm. I had wanted him, but then he changed... He wasn't normal- he was fucking crazy. He wasn't like my other previous boyfriends- he'd made me feel special... Snap out of it, Alex! Keep running... Keep running... Keep run-

Everything went black.

Seven months earlier:

It wasn't that I hated my teacher, no, it's that I hated the person seated next to me- or I was supposed to. Maybe that's why she put me next to him. Nobody else could resist his egotistical remarks, and flirtatious charm. The heartkeeper they called him. He'd taken almost every girl- excluding me- for a spin (most likely in the sheets). I didn't want a "piece of that fine ass".

If I had to say anything nice about him, it would probably be that he was persistent. Whether that was a neutral personality trait, or a good one, it was there. Everyday, during English, he'd walk up to me, brush his filthy hand on the back of my neck, and sit down. He'd chat it up with me, sending me his flirty comments. "I love your hair when its down, Alexandra. It looks... natural." He'd compliment me, my hair, my body, using the tricks he used on all my female friends and classmates.

I hate saying I fell, but I did. It was a slow tumble from the highest point on the highest mountain of hate to the lowest point on the cold ground of full, true love. He'd touched my heart with heavy, charming words. A real life prince charming and I felt like I was his Cinderella. Not only did he act the part, he looked it. Chiseled features, alluring blue eyes that drew you into their depths and tugged you along in the waves, followed by blond hair that looked like he'd run his fingers through it as though he was stressed. (It was a nervous tick of his.) How he'd fallen for me, the strange ginger with freckles on every aspect of my skin and green eyes that resembled the forest. He may look, and play, the part, but I was nowhere near the Cinderella that the stories spoke of.

Fingers reached out and tucked a stray sliver of red hair behind my ear. "What's on your mind, Alex? You look a bit lost." I've always been a bit unsure of how he could read me like the most fascinating book in the library. I thought I was good at locking up my emotions and keeping them behind a facial mask, but I guess he removed it the moment I let him past heavily guarded walls.

I bit my lip, grinning up at him. I closed my locker carefully so I could give him my full attention before replying. He always did seem a bit irritated when I seemed distracted while talking to him. "Just thinking about you. Good thoughts, though." Truth, but not the full truth. He doesn't need to know my self doubt. He wouldn't care. I moved my gaze to the floor, slightly jumping when his arms encircled me.

"There are no bad thoughts when it comes to me," his voice sounded teasing as he released me from the tight embrace. His hair looked like his fingers had been run through again and I could see the nervous glint in his blue eyes. I shot him a glare that spoke for itself, which lead to him sheepishly continuing. "My parents want to meet you- and your family-" he paused to run his fingers through his hair, again, "- tonight. At my place." I nodded, immediately pulling out my phone and sending a quick text to my parents about the plan. I already knew they would say yes; they could never deny free food.

"There. We're all set now, Ryder. I guess I'll see you tonight," I smirked up at him. I knew what that did to him, and he knew what to do right back. I knew what angle I was playing at. His voice dropped an octave as he drew his fingers across the side of her face before lowering his head so his lips were inches away from her ear as he spoke.

"Don't tease, Alexandra."

The night passed quickly, and I had fun, but when we went home and my mother fixed me with a stern look and pulled me into the hallway with fear dancing in her eyes as she spoke to me in hushed whispers about not going out alone or letting him near my heart, my confusion grew. I promised her I wouldn't, after all, promises were made to be broken.

I'd gone to my room to draw, my music blaring as I did when he showed up outside, throwing pebbles at my window. (God, he's such a dork.) I'd slammed my journal shut, the hand clamped around the heart disappearing from my view. I'd picked up my phone, letting Lisa, my sister, know she was my alibi if my mother questioned my motives before texting Ryder that I'd be down in a moment.

Opening the door, I called out to my parents, "I'm going to Lisa's! I should be back later!" before slamming it shut and making my way around the house to where Ryder was. With my mother's warning replaced by thoughts of Ryder, I fixed him a pointed stare. "Now, what're you doing at my house this late?"

He had the decency to look sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck as he replied to my question, "I was thinking we could go for a walk... I remember you said you liked the woods..." I grinned, tugging his hand in silent reply. I could never resist a walk in the woods.

He'd shown me the woods, and so much more. Things that made me wish I hated the woods. Things that made me wish I'd listened to my mother. The look in his eyes was feral, like a wolf about to strike its prey. The only difference, was he was the wolf- a beast- and I was the prey. I'd pleaded for him to come back to me, but he had none of it. He was gone, a beast, and he'd given in to the thrill of the chase the moment I started running.

I turned for a second. He looked human, but he wasn't. His hands were twisted, fingers looking more like knives than anything else. His eyes were burning, feral, while I was the deer in the headlights, backing up- but god it was useless, and god my hands were shaking. I managed to stumble ahead as he came towards me, rushing back in the same direction we came from. How did seven months work up to here?

Present:

How am I alive? was the first question that popped into my head when I came to. The ground was hard beneath me, and my head was pounding, but my answer was staring me right in my face- literally. The moment I saw those feral eyes it all came back and I scrambled back. He wasted no time following, standing over me once more. I reached into my boot, pulling out the knife my mother always forced me to carry slowly, but not revealing it.

"Hello, Alexandra. I hope you're still tired... I can help put you to sleep." and that was all it took. He'd pulled me up, pushing me up against the tree with strong arms. When his knife-like fingers touched my chest, just on the skin above my heart, I knew I could die. I heard a whispered "Goodnight, darling", a scream, and then silence. The knife that was once in my hand was now buried in his chest as he stumbled back, blood falling. The feral look in his eyes was gone and he looked up at me with tears in his eyes. "God, I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm so.. so.. sor-"

Then he was gone.

The shock passed after a week- the day of his funeral. I'd worn the black dress my mom bought for me while I was holed up in my room, the thoughts of what had happened not processing in my mind. I glanced in the mirror. My green eyes looked greener as tints of red rimmed them, tear tracks marred my face, and I could still see the red tint of blood on my hands.

I killed him, I wanted to say at his funeral.

But I didn't.