The Beacon [h.s]

28

Nyla West

I think I've gone into shock.

I'm not quite sure though as I've never had to experience something so shocking that it could trigger it. But by the tremble in my hands, the cold sweat seeping through the pores on my entire body, the rapid pulse ringing through my ears, and my inability to form any type of word, I'll take that as a hunch and say I've definitely gone into shock.

I honestly don't know how my feet continue to move down the boardwalk, but my body seemed to go on it's own while I tried my best to regulate my breathing. I saw Harry's mouth move, he said something to me, but that's all my erratic mind could make of it, I settled with a head nod to suffice as a reply, the rest of the world was silent to me right now. This boardwalk seemed to go on for miles, time wasn't a priority in my mind, I wouldn't have known if we've been walking for minutes or days if some asked me.

A hand suddenly wrapped around my wrist, it took me a minute to process the touch, and it took me another minute to force my feet to a stop.

My eyes blink slowly, I feel so numb. The hand on my wrist gives it a tug, I turn around once I realize I've been standing in the middle of the boardwalk mindlessly. It was Harry. Nothing rested on my face, I couldn't force a smile, a roll of my eyes, a frown, I simply looked down to the connection of his hand wrapped around my limp wrist. Red blotches stain his fingertips and rings, dry and flaking of blood that once coursed through a living body.

My eyes trail up from his hand that's caused harm, across his bare arm littered in tattoos, landing on his set of eyes that burst with green and worry. Worried, he seemed. The pulse in my ears didn't stop, the images periodically flashing behind my eyes didn't end either. He had worry on his features as his mouth moved, again, but I couldn't understand anything from the obstruction of noise my pulse had in my ears.

I stared into his fretful eyes, I see him shake his head slowly as his eyes leave my own. Disappointment, was it? No, he portrayed what looked like guilt, I drew the conclusion. His hand of harm was still around my wrist, I couldn't take it off if I wanted to. We started walking again, a different direction, off the boardwalk, a slightly quicker pace.

My body heated up under the sun and the hoodie which was Harry's. The sleeves were rolled up, I must have done that when I put it on. I stood in front of Harry's car now, he led us here. Again he stood in front of me, close, his eyebrows knitted together trying to catch my gaze. But mine fell to the ground. His shoes, I notice, the rubber which was originally white, now red like his fingers. My trembles worsened as the pictures of why his shoes are red came to mind.

I'm going insane.

I lift my eyes to my wrist, Harry's hand that once held it, loosened. His fingers danced across my skin on the back of my hand which fell limp to my side. I've noticed his body blocking the sun from my eyes, that's how close he's come to stand in front of me. My eyes trained on his fingers which lowered to barely brush against my own fingertips gently, I felt a twitch in my pinky.

I found it hard to focus on his fingers touching mine as I then felt my hair being gently tucked away behind my ear. It caused me to lift my head, meeting his eyes that seemed to light up when he noticed. I settled onto his lips, watching such a foreign yet familiar small smile being sent my way. How could he smile after what just happened? He opened the door for me, allowing me inside his vehicle before he came around to the driver's seat.

My head spun, the cool sweat now turned into a drench under this warm hoodie. I sat in the passenger seat as Harry drove, breathing became such a hard task to complete, I heaved, but I couldn't find the energy to take his hoodie off my body. I tried watching the buildings pass in speed, but it only worsened the dizzy state I was in. My mouth watered with saliva, and not the good kind when you crave food, the kind when you're about to puke. And I finally felt something.