Her Secret| ✓

07

Honest by The Neighbourhood
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Wednesday 2:11 A.M

DIANA SAT UPRIGHT WITH a jolt, perspiration coating her forehead and neck in the weight of darkness. Diana laid there for a moment, just collecting her thoughts, and checking her irrational fears, she could hear the words dancing in the air. A small voice in the thick blackness, screaming for her to run, to hide, to get help, finally sobbing.

Diana pursed her lips and turned to inspect the clock on the nightstand, it was the middle of the night; she lifted the covers and slowly leaned back against the pillow she had positioned exactly right.

Was it safer if she never remembered? What is safe? Diana asked herself. The cool hardwood wardrobe was safe. Did she laugh? Did she cry, had been torn from her body—primal and deep? Had she danced after their deaths on the lawn, in the empty kitchen, through the desolate halls, in the dead rooms? She could not say that night had been extinguished long ago.

Her eyes wandered down to her chest in the dark, at Erik's shirt that he had somehow let her steal. Diana felt the corners of her lips curl into a smile, she breathed in the shirt, it smelled muskier and spicier than anything she had ever smelled, and she adored it. It gave her comfort to have something of his.

Wednesday 2:13 A.M

Erik Laurence had been tossing for countless hours, unable to sleep, kept awake by the thought rattling around in his brain.

Quietly Diana lifted the blankets and climbed down from the impressively tall bed; if she did not get out of there the voices would get to her, prove to her that she could fly.

One step as her foot touched the softwood, the open window welcomed a chilly breeze causing the drape to beat against the wall as if it were alive. The wind blew in furiously the closer she got with each titillating step until she grasped the curtain firmly. Diana could feel it swelling around her, it was time, she was ready to fly.

She took great pains to be quiet as a mouse, the way her mother had taught her to be, Diana peeled open the window and stepped through it. Buzzing with energy, her feet hit the sturdy patio, once she had shimmied her whole body through, a burst of Seattle's coldest air nipped at her fingers as she touched the windowpane and cautiously hoisted it.

Diana bit down on her tongue as she hugged a hand over her ribs and stared, the view of the neighbourhood in the fresh night air was priceless, she supported herself on the wall. An engine below her in the dark purred.

It felt like it had been years since Diana had let herself relax and now that she was safe, she felt her body relax and let a long-held breath go, her tense shoulders finally loosened. She might have moved on, she guessed, if Mags had just left well enough alone.

Every time I try to forget that a psychopathic serial killer is chasing me, it always ends badly, someone always gets hurt. All I do never seems to work, I am so sick of this, I do not want to feel this doubt. It is only a matter of time before they find me, what if I right the wrong? It might seem cruel, but it was always meant to be me.

"You are not thinking of doing something stupid, are you?" Diana turned towards the window with a start, a guilt-infused expression on her face, she tore her eyes from his and looked down at her hands gripping the railing. When did I? Her thoughts trailed off, there was something in Erik's sleep-dipped voice, gravelly and dream-inducing—something told her he was not like the rest.

"Think I just remembered something," Diana said slowly, Erik stood still for a moment, sceptical at first. "Maybe that is a lie, maybe I just did not want to be lonely anymore." Great balls of fire, I wish I never spoke, Diana's cheeks pinked. Why had she said that? All her strength to stand evaporated, she sat on the patio floor and folded her arms across her chest. I'm so stupid, what was I thinking, coming out here without a blanket, she grumbled.