Social Suicide (Texting Harry Styles)

7

MONDAY, OCTOBER 22 2018

The forest air was cold this evening, the breeze whipping my hair around every few seconds. I was holding my hands out to the fire for warmth when I got this sinking feeling that I was being watched. I began to regret my choice to leave Jake with a pet sitter.

Trying to appear calm, I stood and made my way down the trail, closer to the Usinov cabin. When I heard distinct footsteps crunch some fallen leaves nearby, I paused on my heel and made a quick decision to jet in the other direction. I didn't care if I got lost. They would find me eventually. Just as long as I got away from whoever it was.

The moonlight was bright overhead and I started to hear the ocean, its waves crashing against the rocks below.

Still about fifty yards from the cliff, I whirled around to inspect my surroundings. And there he was.

I felt like I was in a dream. My movements were slowing down with each passing second.

I had nowhere to go. In a moment, it would be over, and I would die.

My mother's voice was suddenly at my ear, screaming, reprimanding me for giving up.

He smiled wickedly and made his way to me in torturously slow steps. I fell backwards on my elbows, staring up at him. I tried to put on a brave face, but by how amused he seemed, it was clear that it wasn't working.

He reached out and, at the last second, I rolled on my side, making his fingers dig in the hard dirt. He dropped to his knees astride one of my legs and wrapped his calloused hands around my neck. He still said nothing.

The only thing on my mind was Mom. She thought more of me than this.

My fist balled up halfway and collided with his throat. He slightly recoiled, coughed once, then just when his eyes blazed with pure anger, I threw my knee up to his gut. He let me go for a brief second, just long enough for me to get the element of surprise. I didn't hesitate. With one leg still underneath him, I kicked at him again. His foot slipped on a mossy rock and when I scurried to a crouch, he was gone. I heard screaming.

I looked over the edge just in time to see his body fall into the water.

I gasped and my eyes snapped open, bringing me back to reality.

"Noelle! Elle, it's just a dream!" Harry held onto me, kneeling on the floor beside the bed.

Oh. I realized why his face looked so alarmed. The screaming was coming from me.

"You're okay. You're fine. It wasn't real," he kept mumbling against my forehead. My hyperventilating got worse before it got better.

I finally took a deep breath, nodding, and he leaned away to look into my eyes.

"What happened?"

I sighed, thinking of my answer.

"Nothing. Just a nightmare," I forced myself to say. It was a lie.

It wasn't just a nightmare.

It was a memory.

My body started to shake. Harry noticed.

He climbed in his bed next to me, holding me against his chest. His wet curls were hanging lower than usual and dripping water onto my cheeks. He must've just gotten out of the shower.

Or heard me screaming while he was in the shower, so he rushed out to see what was going on.

A few minutes passed. My shivering was didn't get much better because his damp skin was pressed against me. And since it was autumn, it was already pretty cold in the house.