Deal With The Devil H.S.

8.

"Scratching counter tops, I was screaming."

Harry's POV

I didn't think I would feel any sort of remorse for the way I sent Jane away a few days ago.

I've been fine, but when I start to think about it, I can't help but feel this guilt that is stabbing me in the chest.

I'm not sorry for sending her out. I'm just sorry that she has no idea why I can't listen to her speak without wanting to punch a hole in the wall.

She speaks and it all comes crashing down. Like one big wave completely engulfing me.

Maybe that's why I want to ensure Jane's safety. I couldn't save her, but maybe I can save Jane.

Arthur and Charles may have gotten away with it then, but they won't this time.

I twisted my rings in my fingers and cracked my knuckles. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath.

"It is not your fault," I pointed at myself, trying to believe the words I was saying. I ran my fingers through my hair and straightened the suit jacket that hugged my body.

I pushed the bathroom door open and walked into my room. The simple pictures of birds and nature hanging on the wall contrasted with devil masks that hung up on the walls.

The empty eyes of the masks stared me down like I wasn't the one who brought them to life.

I walked over to the dresser that had many things on top of it.

Guns
Knives
Files
And my most prized possession.

I'm surprised I ever take it off, but I have a fear of breaking it in my sleep.

I picked up the small cross necklace and slipped it over my head. I straightened on my bare chest.

I never button my shirts all the way so I can flaunt it, and show it off. Hoping that maybe miracles do happen and someone will recognize it as their own.

But I know it won't happen, but it reminds me to keep trying. To keep so that her wishes come true.

I have to learn to love someone first.

The concept of loving someone without thinking about her pains me. She will always be the person I think about before I fall asleep, when I'm in the shower, and when I'm eating alone in my apartment.

It feels unfair. She wanted to show me what love was so bad, it was the only thing keeping her hopeful, and now she's gone.

For good. 

"Good morning, Harry," Arlo walked through the front door and nodded his head at me. "Did you sleep well?" He tilted his head as he stood in front of the door.

"As good as I ever do," I shrugged my shoulders and sat down on the couch.

"Still dreaming of her?" Arlo's tone was soft and concerned. I nodded and ran my hands down my face.

"I never stopped looking Harry," Arlo walked over to the couch across from me. "If she was alive we would've known by now," Arlo's eyes searched for mine as he spoke.

"What did you see? What did you see when you found me?" I furrowed my eyebrows and tilted my head truly wanting the answer. "Was she just gone? As if no one was there?" I folded my hands in front of me.

"Nothing Harry," Arlo shrugged. "The hinges on her door were broken and there was a rotting corpse in the room," Arlo always asked if I was sure that wasn't her.