Psycho {H.S.}

Eight

My head snaps towards the bathroom when I hear bangs and murmurs of profanities. The way they roll off of his tongue make it sound like they have a right to be said. And I want to tell him it's okay, but I don't know why.

I jump up from the bed and run to the dingy window beside the bedside table. I slowly peek out of the sheet covering it and I see red white and blue lights flash from below.

I hear loud footsteps behind me and I turn around. I'm met by a completely bare naked Harry. His hair is stuck to his head and beads of water caress his skin as they graze it, falling with gravity. I gasp, accidentally glancing a little further down than expected. Holy shit, why is is standing? What is this. I quickly cover my eyes and turn around.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see anything!" I shout and pout into my palms. I hear shuffling from behind me and the sound of a belt being clasped together.

"Chris, I'm decent. We have to leave, now!" His voice comes out harsh with a hint of panic. I turn around and pull my hands from my face. Harry doesn't have a shirt on, and I blush when I see how defined his body is, and his pubic hair. It makes me feel weird. He truly is manly. Oh hell, I need to stop.

And it is now that I conciously decide that if I want to make it out alive, see my family again, I have to play his game. I read about it once on the back page of a textbook. It said 'if you can't win their game, play it until you beat it.' I decide now that I have to play his game.

"I can get us out." I speak up and he is pulling a shirt quickly over his head. He moves frantically, packing a few things in a backpack. He stops and looks up at me.

"Well get ready because we are about to go for a run." He says with a smirk, despite the fact that there are probably three police cars waiting outside for him. I shake my head a force a smile.

I can't act the way that I always do. I'm a smart mouth, my mom tells me all the time. And just now I am realizing that this is life or death.

I'm literally pulled from my thoughts when Harry grabs my wrist and pulls me towards the door.

My feet stumble a bit when he pulls the door open and we fly through it into the hallway. His head snaps to me and his eyes are filled with adrenaline. I can see the little gears in his head turning. If I stare any longer, smoke may just start coming from his ears.

"Where's the elevator?" I ask and he squints his eyebrow, like he's retracing his steps. He looks back up excitedly and begins to run, pulling me along with him. I grunt when my body gets ripped from its spot on the floor. We run down the dark hallway and he stops when the hallway splits into two. He closes his eyes for only a split second before taking off down the right one. And sure enough, the elevator is right there.

We run up to it and he presses the open button several times frantically. Suddenly we hear loud footsteps and we turn, realizing that police are now searching the place and the elevator happens to be right by the door that leads to the staircase. Personally I don't care if we are caught, but they could mistaken me as an accomplice, and I'm not risking anything! What if they shot me because they thought I was a part of the murder!

As we hear the door start to pound harshly, the elevator opens and we practically run in. Harry zips around and looks at me for directions. The clock is ticking and the wood on the door the police are kicking down starts to crackle. I observe the buttons until I see it, the very bottom button usually leads to the bottom floor, which is usually the basement. I press it quickly and the doors close faster than it took to open. And I'm glad it closed because we could both hear the wooden door to the staircase break.

I look over to Harry and he's breathing harshly. His eyes meet mine and he smirks. God, please don't be a douche when I practically saved your life!

"You're naughtier than I expected." He says and I mentally face palm. Really? That's what I get? Not even a thank you? Okay, cool. Whatever.

"You haven't seen anything yet." I decide to say daringly. His eyes widen, not quite expecting that from me. But before he gets the chance to say anything else, the doors open and we are met by the typical horror movie scene. If this were a movie, I'd walk in and Harry and I would get seperated. He would probably grab a knife and slit my throat. But this isn't a movie, and I wouldn't be surprised if that actually happened.

This time, I courageously reach for Harry's wrist and pull him out. At first he's reluctant, but I let him know I'm in control by pulling harder on his wrist. He finally gives in and allows me to pull him out. I look around and see white sheets covering multiple things.

Window, find a window. I say in my head and my eyes begin to scan the room. A little spec of light catches my eye behind two stacked boxes and I let go of Harry's wrist, running up to them and reaching on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around the box and pulling it off. Harry suddenly catches on and runs up to the box beside and and pulls it off. We both throw them to the floor.

A window big enough to fit through sits in front of us. We both look to eachother and I smirk.

"Told you I could get you out."