Supernatural (One Direction love story)

Chapter 2

My mind felt fuzzy as I swung my feet over the side of the bed, a sudden wave of vertigo washing over me. Steadying myself on the bedside table I hobbled over to the bathroom, my bare feet padding along the cold ground. Flicking open the cold water I hesitantly ran my hand beneath the crystalline spray, cupping the water in my palms and bringing it to my face. I washed the sleep away, rubbing my hands along my face until it refreshed.

I closed the tap, watching my reflection in the speckled mirror. The dark circles beneath my eyes were an unfamiliar sight, odd and out of place in my usually rested being. I prodded them with my finger, deliberating if they were really there or the light was playing tricks with my eyes. Sighing, I padded out of the chilly bathroom, picking up the fuzzy robe discarded on the floor beyond my closet. Now how did that get there?

Walking towards the window I tore open the blinds, squinting as the bright light filtered in, small particles dancing on the incandescent rays. The world outside seemed so bright, so serene in its morning rousing. Birds flitted from tree to tree, hopping about in the branches as they rang their natural alarms, the sun danced on the earth, melting the night's drops of dew and warming buds until they burst open revealing their skirts of calico colours. I looked back at the state of my room, my brow furrowing as I took in the heaped covers at the end of the bed, the pillow lying neglected on the floor, the fallen table lamp. What on earth did I do last night? Then it all came cantering back, crashing onto my like monstrous waves on the shores of a rocky beach. BAM! BAM! BAM! As each furious wave crested in white raised its massive fist and clawed away at the rocks.

He'd tried to jump. Every fibre in me had screamed to reach out and grab him, pull him away from the dangerous ledge where he teetered and wrap him up in a cocoon to free him from his troubled world. But I was afraid. More afraid of him jumping you may ask. Yes, more afraid of him jumping. A single touch, a single graze of his skin on mine would send me plummeting into a world of darkness and desolate pain, judging from his current state of course. I'd be plunged into the darkest secrets of his past, stretched and twisted to fit into even the smallest nooks and crannies, uncovering long forgotten memories he had stashed away. I was scared of what I'd find, weaved in between the cobwebs of his past; filled in the holes where the moths had nibbled.

I'd tried to reason with him but it seems my attempts were to no avail as he inched forward, leaning in to face his final breath. But as he edged towards his death, so I edged towards the cease of the dream, waking only to find myself panting and sweating in my own bed. But it had felt so real. Never had I dreamt so vividly, so incredibly tied to my emotions. I swear I could still feel the vile taste of fear on my tongue, salty and metallic, like blood almost.It was just a dream Ellie, it was just a dream.

I shook the thought away, leaving my room in the state it was and heading outside through the darkened corridor and into the eerie main of the house. It was always so quiet, so lifeless. A stunning house, lacking nothing but people to live in it; ironic really. As I made my towards the kitchen I passed the rounded table that sat before the large leather couches. Perched on its creamy hardwood surface was a simple brown box, not a peculiar sight it was.

I picked up the box, noticing the differing weight than what it usually was, far lighter it seemed in its pressure on my arms as I carried it off with me into the large kitchen. I propped it on the bench-top, pulling open the cupboard beneath the sink and shifting the hefty metal case until the dial at its front was facing me. Quickly spinning in the digits and I dragged the brown box down and began emptying the green wads into the safe, noticing that my assumptions were right; there was less money this time. As I placed the last set of notes into the safe I reached my hand into the brown box thinking there was more to draw but only came across a single scrap of paper, lying desolate in the bottom of the box.

I shut the safe, spinning it around to its former position and took the paper and box down to the couch. I made myself comfortable, pulling up my feet from beneath me and settling into the soft material.

"Dear Ellie" I read aloud, "As you probably noticed there's less money this time, I don't have much time to explain this now but hopefully you'll understand soon enough - Simon"

Simon. Simon. Simon. He always sent the money, always enough to keep me living, enough to last so that I wouldn't have to work. But who was he really? Who was this Simon? (A/N credit goes to my lovely twinsie witout her there would be no updately because sadly I'm grounded :'( )