West 76th Street - H.S

Chapter 17.

A/N: Surprise double update. Sorry, I wrote this chapter, and forgot to post it so I wrote another lol.

DONT FORGET TO READ CHAPTER 18 AFTER THIS ONE!!!

CADENCE:

    I see blood trickling down the side of his face and I immediately back away.. My heart races at the sight of him, the sight of his eyes looking at me, still shocked, still scared. I back away, and drop what I'm holding. It thuds on the floor, and he still looks at me, life slipping from his eyes. Why. Why? I don't know the reason. I can't think of the reason as to way that was my initial reaction, why that was-

    My eyes open to the ceiling, not my apartment. Not Harry's apartment. I'm still in Greece. We're still here. I look next to me, and there's no one here. But I know it was just a dream. The second dream I have had where I have killed someone. The second time I have dreamed of taking someone's life. It wasn't a dream though was it? Both of them, both times have been completely random. Not me. Not what I want. Not me at all. Two nightmares.

    The first one... The first one was.. I hate her. Of course I hate Angelina but I don't want her dead, especially not at my hands. I wouldn't do that to her. The nightmare was still out of nowhere. I have never had dreams of killing anyone, not before I met Harry. Not since I left North Carolina. That dream about Angelina was not normal. It shook me up, It scared the shit out of me.. But this one. Killing someone I actually love. It hits too close to home. It only happened once. It hit far too close to home, and I don't want it to ever happen again. Dreaming of killing someone you love, and not being able to tell yourself it isn't real until your eyes open up.

    I get up, and I go to the bathroom, splashing water on my face. I go to the open suitcase that sits in the closet, clothes sprawling out of it. I grab a sweater, and throw it over the soft tank top I'm already wearing. The crazy part is, I don't even know what time it is. I don't remember falling asleep. I put socks on, and the white tennis shoes I brought with me. I grab my phone, and I slide it in the pocket of the shorts, and I grab my bag too. I open the balcony doors that I feel like have stayed open the entire time we've been here and I hear his voice, and instantly turn away. He must have closed them because he was on the phone.

    I go through the house, and walk quickly to the door, leaving before him or anyone else can stop me, or ask me anything. I want nothing more than to just clear my head. Get out of this area, go where I can't be bothered. I close the door quickly and start walking quickly too before he can notice that I'm gone. Knowing him it won't be long, I don't want to be found though, and luckily on this island there's lots of streets, and turns. I feel like it might be harder than anyone could think.

    I keep my head down, not that this is anything like New York, but still. My eyes are down, and my arms are crossed and my mind is reeling wondering what the hell just happened. I reach into my bag, and pull out the clip, pulling my hair up. I sigh as I walk away, and turn corners and streets, smiling to locals, and ignoring other tourists like me. I want to kill him? That can't be what that means. It means maybe I shouldn't be around him anymore. It could mean that bad things could happen if this continues. If I continue to love him, or be around him? Am I changing? Is this who I am becoming?

    I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't be this person, I shouldn't be here, and I wish more than anything my mind would stop, and my brain would stop, and this would quit. I need this to stop. I need this to all stop. Everything that I have started. Everything we have started. I don't need his money. I don't need these trips. I don't need anything but myself. I proved that before I met Harry. I proved that when I moved out of the house I had with him. I proved that when I got my degree, and I lived in a fucking hotel while I waited for something, anything. I proved that when I moved to New York with my money, and my things, and my life all by myself. I don't need this. This isn't me, this isn't who I'm becoming.