Lapse [h.s]

Chapter eleven

Slightly letting my eyes open, there's an immediate pounding in my head and my throat feels dryer than the desert. My eyes are all crusty from how long I'm assuming I was out for, barely remembering the night I had.

I feel around the covers, with an unusual feeling washing over me. Opening my eyes fully, I shoot upwards. I don't recognise this place at all, I'm laid in what I'm assuming is a king sized bed. Way bigger than the one I'm used to and the bed sheets are cream coloured and a lot fluffier than mine.

Looking around the room, I start to feel uneasy. There's nothing here apart from the bed and a nightstand to my right. There's three large windows, running from the ceiling down to the floor. They run across the wall, opposite the bed, with the blinds slightly open. Allowing me to see the run just about rising.

My phone and purse are on the nightstand, along with a glass of water. I pick my phone up to check what time it is.

Of course it's dead.

Throwing it back down, I lift the covers off my legs and fling them to the edge.

I reach for it for the water, downing it all in one big gulp. Letting the cold liquid coat my throat and I smack my lips together, wiping away the residue that's left.

Pushing myself up from the bed, I round the wall to what I'm assuming is a bathroom. I flick on the light and glance at myself in the mirror.

I turn on the tap and splash my face in the cold water, attempting to wake me up a little. Picking up the towel and dabbing my face dry.

My makeup is smudged everywhere, my red lipstick halfway down my chin and mascara underneath my eyes.

Red.

Images of the man lying helplessly in a pool of his own blood flash through my mind and the ringing in my ears is back. My hands start shaking helplessly as the bile in my throat begins to rise.

It's finally starting to set in that I was caught in the middle of a shooting last night. The blood pounds in my ears and my vision goes blurry. I stumble backwards into the toilet so I grab onto the sink for extra support, gripping it so tight my knuckles begin to turn white.

My breathing picked up and it felt like someone was pressing hard with their palm on my throat. Squeezing my eyes shut only brought the images back so I tried to keep them open but my vision was too blurry to focus on anything else. 

I let myself fall against the cold tiled wall and slid my back down until my ass met the floor and I collapse onto it.

Bringing my knees up to meet my chest I begin to cry, harder than what feels like I ever have. I let a man die.

I walked past him, laying there, gasping for breath while Harry and I completely ignored him. The last seconds of his life were spent watching me walk away from him, I let him suffer.

I start crying harder, rocking myself back and forth to try and calm myself down. Now I'm gasping for air into my lungs, my breathing is so harsh that nothing is traveling to them and it makes me panic.

I let myself fall over onto my side, still curled up into a ball. It's not often I have panic attacks, but when I do it feels like the whole world stops spinning. I can't function like normal, I can't breath, can't even see straight.

"Grace"

"Grace wake up" I peel my eyes open and Harry is crouched down in front of me.

I lift my head and straighten up, I'm still in the bathroom. I'm not sure how long I was out, but I bring my hands up to my face and wipe just underneath my eyes with my fingers, to get rid of the water residue from my tears.