I Knew You Were Trouble

And You'll Add My Name To Your Long List of Traitors Who Don't Understand

Six weeks later, I saw him on the street. He was behind a supermarket, smoking with a tall blonde sat on his motorbike, fake laughing loudly. His hair was even more licked back than before, but longer, and there were a lot of cigarette ends on the floor around him. When he noticed me, she stopped laughing and tried to distract him, but it was too late; he was already walking towards me. I tried to hide, but ducking into an antique store quickly wasn't good enough and soon we were face to face.

His eyes had lost their sparkle and he looked almost sad. He tried to apologise, saying he'd missed me and that no one else was like me but I knew it was all just a silly game he loved to play. He said he wanted to take me out to dinner somewhere, "like I deserved" because he'd never done that for me. I told him to leave and I told him I was done with him, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. After ten minutes of practically begging at my feet, he left, saying he had better things to do along with a few expletives.

I waited a while until I thought he'd gone, scared he'd hurt me if I left the safety of the shop, but when I looked outside, the blonde was sat crying on a bench and he was nowhere to be seen. Confused, I walked home.

After a few days, he showed up on my doorstep with flowers and a longer apology than before. I believed him because we live so far apart, it didn't make sense for it to be a lie. We had dinner at a fancy hotel, where he told me he hadn't stopped thinking about me and I told him the same. We danced all night and he spent the remainder of the night at my house. It felt different this time, like it was fun and it meant something to him. I enjoyed it and I could be myself. 

The next morning, I awoke to find him gone and a note saying he had to go to work, so I got dressed slowly and decided to go and visit my friend. On the drive over, I saw his bike on the side of the road, propped against a tree. In a panic, I pulled up and went to investigate. 

Walking further and further into the forest behind the road, I could hear his voice getting increasingly louder and closer. As I reached the edge of a steep hill, I saw a clearing in which he was with another girl (this time, a redhead). He was kissing her and dancing with her, and there were flowers next to her jacket which closely resembled the ones he'd given me. 

I backed away in horror, tripping over a tree root and twisting my ankle. Tears were falling out of my eyes one by one, but there was no sound. I ran/hobbled as quickly as I could back to the car and drove away. 

That night, I locked all the doors and windows in my house and curled up in my bed, waiting for the doorbell to ring. I waited all night, and nothing. 

The next day, it rang loudly and when I looked out the window, I saw his bike leaning against the lamppost on my drive. I felt stupid, I felt like I should've learnt and I knew I couldn't face him so I waited for him to leave. After a few moments, my phone rang next to me but I let it ring until the phone cut out. He rang four times, waited thirteen and a half minutes, then he left, confused. 

I was scared of him because of how he'd hurt me before, both mentally and physically. I didn't want to break up with him because I didn't know how he'd react. So I was a coward and I did it the way everyone knows you shouldn't. I texted him. 

As soon as I sent it, I felt relief but also panic because he still knew where I lived, but after half an hour, he replied with simply "okay". I thought that meant he was fine with it. I thought that meant he was over me anyway. I thought it meant I was safe from him. I was so wrong.