What she sees

2 - Hey, stranger

I finish applying my make-up and sit and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I'm looking just a little on the dodgy side today (well, a lot on the dodgy side today) but it's not as if I'm out to impress anyone. I run a hand through my hair and sigh. I'd really rather stay home today. I run downstairs, and tip some Golden nuggets in a bowl, they taste yeee haaa! I decide I can't really be bothered to put milk in as well. I go back upstairs with my dry cereal and spoon to see Harry stood outside my bedroom leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"What, you're not even going to put milk with it?" He scoffs. I roll my eyes and go into my room , and Harry follows behind. It is way too early for this.

"How come you always seem to show up when there's food or drink involved?" I ask quietly. Mum probably wouldn't hear me over her snoring anyway.

"What are you implying?" Harry asks me with his mouth hanging wide open and hand on his chest. I just shake my head.

"Any plans for today?" I ask him, changing the subject, because I'm not up for him winding me up right now.

"I don't know... I could visit home, cos, well I haven't seen them in a while, but.." Harry looks down, his happy mood suddenly changed. I give him a small but sympathetic smile. I know how hard it has all been for him, having to leave his family and watching them suffer. Secretly, he's in as much pain as they are over his death. His eyes stay glued to the floor, as he awkwardly shuffles his feet.

"Hey.. It wasn't your fault." I whisper to him. He nods and the tears I notice forming in his eyes start to shake.

"It's just... hard, you know? And, everyone expects me, that Harry guy, to be a real strong dude who's just a funny, genuine... good looking guy," I laugh a little at his ego, as does he, "but I can't be like that all of the time, Em. I'd say I'm dying inside but I can't even say that because I've already been and done that, and now THAT really hurts." he says, wiping his eyes. It hurts ME just to see Harry like this, so different from his usual self, so down.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Harry says, shaking it off and waving a hand in the air dismissively. "You need to get going or you're gunna be late for school, and we all know you love that place really."

"Oh really?" I sarcastically ask putting my hands on my hips.

"Really." he replies with a cheeky grin on his face, showing he's still the same old Harry we all know and love.

"Okay well I need to get going." I say slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder and making sure I've got everything I need for the long day ahead of me. "Bye, Harry." I say as I go to walk out of my bedroom door, but there's something I see behind me out of the corner of my eye.

I quickly turn around to see what, or who, it was, but there's nothing there. I shrug it off and take my empty bowl into the kitchen and throw it into the sink and leave the house, gently closing the door behind me making sure I don't wake mum up.

But I can't shake off the feeling that there's someone watching me.

A feeling I'm not yet familiar with.

*

Today was really nothing special, only the usual really. I'd get to form and not talk to anyone, then I'd go to first lesson and discuss with a friend everything interesting I didn't do last weekend, the day will drag on, I'd go to dinner and sit with the same people that I do everyday while they gossip about whatever and talk about the guys they like, when really, no one catches my eye, the day would drag on still, I'd walk home while listening to all the bands I do listen to like Green day, Nirvana, All time low, etc. (Yeah, other people say I'm not the sort to listen to that sort of music too.) and now I'm home, flopping down on my bed after a long, hard day of being Emily Hunt. Sigh. Only one thing has been different today, though. That feeling. People (Well, I say people, if you could class people that roam around without even a beating heart as 'people') are probably watching me all the time, but this is different. You've got to know that feeling, right? Like there's someone behind you, just following you, watching every move you make, but there's no one actually there. That feeling. I can't even talk to anyone about any weird experiences like these that I get, I'd rather not be classed as a freak, thanks. I pull my phone out of my blazer pocket and flick through the songs on there, trying to decide what to play. Ugh, lets just go with a shuffle playlist.