Chasing Innocence | ✓

38 | needed conversations

"Please. Please don't do this."

A fog. That's what it is. My eyes aren't quite seeing the person in front of me. Or maybe I'm seeing them for who they truly are. Maybe this isn't a fog at all, but a clearing.

My whole life doesn't flash before my eyes like I've always envisioned. Instead, I see every memory with a fresh outlook. Laughing becomes sinister. Smiles become lethal.

"Why are you doing this?" I sob.

My hands are extended as I try to block the fifth cut before it enters my skin. The knife skims past my hand, landing in my arm again.

I scream so loudly that I wonder if I'll permanently damage my voice. It's the least of my concern now. I'm not going to live past these few minutes.

"It's for the best."

The knife comes toward my stomach now as I squirm from the hold he has on me. A sound behind me almost takes away the pain as the knife enters my stomach. I look up from the pavement of my driveway as headlights come barrelling down the street.

Safety.

"Help!" I scream.

He doesn't even try to stop me. I know then that he's more deranged than I thought.

When did this happen? How did I not see the signs?

I drag myself along the concrete towards the oncoming truck as it moves closer. It's dark out, but I can just make out the vehicle.

I clench my teeth, a sob ripping through me as I scream.

It happens in slow-motion. I see the truck. The driver sees me; an older man, dark and big eyes. He doesn't slow down, though. He continues up the street as though everything is normal.

I don't even try to stop the knife as it enters my back.

"Rhea!"

I wake violently. I'm breathing heavily, clutching a hand at my throat. I instantly begin to sob violently.

Arms wrap around my shoulders, collapsing against me. I cry into Casey's shoulder, wrapping my own arms around his.

"Rhea?" he whispers.

"He killed her," I sob. "He just— he killed her and I saw. I saw everything and— then he got me but he failed. He failed."

Casey begins to pull me up from the couch as I cry. My legs aren't supporting me. He's trying to hold up my weight and I hate that I'm burdening him with all of this.

This shouldn't be his life. This isn't the upbringing that he deserved. I'm crying harder because he deserves better.

"I'm sorry," I stutter. "I'm so sorry, Casey."

He leads me into the bathroom, shutting the door behind us. He puts down the toilet lid, helping me take a seat as I pull my knees to my chest.

"I'm so embarrassed," I cry, gasping as I try helplessly to calm myself down. "I never wanted you to see me like this."

Casey turns around to face me as he turns on the taps to the bath tub. He sits on the tiles in front of me as the water gushes behind us in the tub.