Chasing Casey

Chapter Nineteen

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Dedication: Fondofcliches for the awesome cover! Thank you! :)

Recap:

Suddenly, I stopped moving. I froze. My heart was pounding in my ears. My eyes squeezed shut.

"C-Casey?" I stammered.

He let out a kind of hysterical laugh.

"Yeah baby," he whispered, his teeth nipping my ear. "It's me."

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The cool water ran through my hair, effectively making it stick to my skin.

I was shivering, uncontrollably, by this point. My whole body was engulfed in paralysing trembles. Tears flowed down my cheeks, but there was so much water on my face, it was impossible to distinguish whether it was my tears or the running stream coming from the shower head.

Last night had been horrible. On many levels.

When I think about it, it all seems so surreal. Like it never even happened. One minute, I was walking from the bathroom, the next? I was face down, being attacked in my own bedroom.

Casey...

Could it really be him? All this time, has he really been alive?

Why? Why has he done this?

This question has been swirling viciously in my mind, making me feel nauseous.

Slowly, I dragged my eyes to my wrist, where a deep, purple bruise had formed, from his grip. I could still feel the sting on the back of my neck, as water ran over it.

I couldn't have made this up - not when I have physical evidence plaguing my body.

"It's me," his voice whispered in my mind.

A shiver ran down my spine as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Sobs wracked my body.

I have come to a conclusion.

Casey is alive. And he's out for blood.

***

It was a horrible, windy day.

Hugging my jacket to me, I walked faster. I let out a shaky breath of relief as the warmth from the cosy, coffee shop flooded over my body.

I had finally forced myself to venture outside. From vivid flash backs, to overwhelming waves of anxiety, there were plenty of emotional handcuffs holding me back. But today, I was soldering on. I had to.

I couldn't just pause life whenever something emotionally damaging happened to me. Otherwise, I will never be able to live. I have to learn to deal with the shitty hand I've been dealt and move on.

Casey will not win. He's done enough to me.

After ordering a flat white, I waited, leaning against one of the tables close to the counter. With a sigh, I ran my gloved hand through my hair, feeling weary.

Ever since That Night, sleep had evaded me. The bags underneath my eyes were a deep, purple colour, bordering on the unhealthy look. No amount of makeup was denying the fact that I was seriously sleep deprived. Not that I usually wore any.

If I closed my eyes, for even a second, the horrible memories from the other night bombarded my brain.

What did he want? If his goal was to scare me, he succeeded.

"Flat white!" a voice called, startling me.

"Thank you," I murmured as I swiped the hot cup from the bench.