𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

Interventor

At home, Regan was as drown in thoughts as she was in the school. She didn't know if she should tell her aunt or not about the red roses. Her aunt had lectured her about sleep and about her absence in Mrs. Claire's class.

But Regan still didn't care about it more than she cared about the roses. She went to her room, expecting a rose, but there wasn't any. She wondered if there would be one in the morning.

She went to the backyard and sat there, watching the wind sway the trees gently. Suddenly, she felt a piercing sensation in her face. She ran her hand over it, and it was the scar that hurt. It was strange because she never remember it to hurt. The sudden pain only lasted for about two seconds and then went away.

Still, her mind was clouded with the never-ending cycle of intrusive thoughts. She didn't know what to worry about first.

She went inside and studied in the living room. It was better to change place of study after all. Her room brought up strange vibes.

However during her study, she ended up procrastinating. It was all unusual, because whenever she studied, she'd focus easily. These times she found it hard to focus.

Her mind wandered around at all sorts of matters. It had been just three days and the mysterious man had gotten inside her mind insanely. And the red roses....the fact that someone sneaked in her room, was terrifying.

It was infuriating. Thinking about that....that man nonstop and to see his eyes wherever she closed hers. She had been anxious her whole life, had felt like she didn't belong, and she still did. Her mind was so clouded and foggy that it was impossible to try and find the way out of the maze in her brain.

Although her aunt cared for her, she felt lonely. Maybe it was because of the cage she had put herself in. Maybe she had isolated herself from certain things and ended up this way. She wasn't sure.

Her aunt would think her as completely normal, because Regan never told her anything of what she felt and thought. If she did, was pretty sure that Monica wouldn't understand. And of course she didn't blame her. She blamed herself only.

"Dear, you're still awake?" Monica's voice startled her. She was so lost in thoughts, that didn't even notice her.

"Here are your pills, I bought you milk so you can sleep well," Monica said, putting the tray on the nightstand.

"Thanks," Regan murmured. It was half past eleven. What a mess. Had she been lost in thought for all this time? was bewildered at how much time had.

"Goodnight, dear."

"You too, aunt." Monica left, leaving Regan on the desk. But before leaving, she did gave Regan a weird look.

She was in mood for nothing, not even sleep. Nothing felt safe. She drank the pill and then as she was scrolling through Instagram, an idea struck her. What if she recorded herself while sleeping?

She walked around the room and found a good place on the window, so it wouldn't capture the view. The phone was fully charged and she put it on record. Using a camera was better, but she didn't have one.

She slipped on a pair of pink pajamas, and then just a quick glance on the mirror made her heart race. There was another red strand on her hair. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was imagining this.