Tess' Point of View:
My thoughts are jumbled everywhere, and I look down at my plate full of food, realizing that I haven't eaten anything because I am too distracted.
"Why aren't you eating?" Harry asks, his eyes darting to my plate of food as he eats his stake. Harry hasn't paid for the meals that were brought in by room service. He instantly would take out his knife just as the room service would enter with our meals, and threaten to kill them, and their families if they don't do what he tells them too.
"I'm not hungry," I say, sighing.
"She's lying," Harry snarls, and my eyes widen. He's doing it again.
"Who are you talking to?" I ask Harry, my throat dry and itchy; aching for water.
"You keep asking me questions. He doesn't like you, Tessa. You're making him despise you even more by questioning him."
I drop my fork in my plate that I have been holding tensely. "H-Harry, please just tell me who or what you are talking about," I nearly plead, chewing at my bottom lip. I need answers. This question has been possessing my mind since the first time I heard Harry talking to himself during the nights.
"I can't tell you. He will get angry," Harry says, his voice softening, but still tinted in a dark way.
"I understand what you are going through, Harry," I assure him, hoping he will open up to me.
"No- no you don't. You're just saying that, everyone just says that." Harry grabs his plate full of food, and throws it against the wall; the food flying in the air and the glass plate splattering into tiny pieces.
"Harry, I will help you." I gulp, these words took the life out of me, why would I be willing to help this man who physically, emotionally and mentally drained me?
"You will?" His voice cracks and I nod.
"I'll try, but you have to promise me, no more fighting, we have to be in this together. Okay?" I say, exhaling a large breath of air. "First, you need to answer my questions about him."
YOU ARE READING
serial killer / hs
FanfictionI cannot escape I cannot hide I lock my thoughts and fears inside. I look again, and now I see The evil eyes approaching me. My legs are ripped; my arms are torn My conscience weak; my soul is worn I think aloud, "Why must this be...
