Deranged

Deranged Chp. 18

Harry's POV

Sky's hand softly brushed my cheek. She quickly pulled back when my eyes opened.

"It's a good thing I like you Sky! I don't like being woke up!" I whispered with a wink, reassuring her I was just joking. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to talk to you..."

"Oh! What about?"

I expected it to be nothing important, maybe asking for breakfast or tea or something. When Sky's facial expression became serious and her tone dropped, I braced myself for anything.

"Why?" she asked, ripping back the comforter and pulling out my scarred wrist. "There has to be a reason... I have one... what's yours?"

I liked Sky, possibly loved, and I trusted her... but was I ready to risk everything by revealing my dark, secretive life?

"Remember those murders that occurred over the last few weeks?"

Sky nodded her head, maintaining her steady, cold stare straight into my eyes. "It was me..."

"What? I-I don't understand..."

Her body was shaking and her eyes were bulging out of her head. "I-I killed them..." I expected her to run screaming out of my flat straight to the police station.

Instead she remained very grounded, not moving an inch.

"No! No! It's a lie! Nice try Harry!" Sky tried to laugh, but this was no joke and she caught onto that pretty quickly.

"Your not laughing! DAMMIT! WHY WOULD YOU- I JUST- I CAN'T- I WON'T BELIEVE IT!"

"Sky, I-I... There was a reason behind it all... The first guy, he hurt my sister-"

"You have a sister?"

"Had... She took her own lace after what Tom did to her... He had it coming. The sick ass played my sister then used her for all she was worth. He deserved to burn in the pits of hell!"

I realized I'd gotten a little carried away by the expression on Sky's face, so I calmed my voice a bit.

"The teacher...She was my teacher... She always failed me on purpose and teased me along with the other kids. I always hated her!

Finally, Peyton...

Well...

She hurt you..."

Sky's POV

I was speechless...

I wouldn't have been surprised if Harry hit someone for hurting me or even sent a few threats... but murder...

He killed someone, no! 3 people! Cold, harsh murder.

Murder- the unlawful or malicious act of killing a defenseless person.

I was no longer in the presence of a mildly troubled , yet understanding boy... I was in the presence of a psychotically, deranged murderous monster.

That was why he wanted to know my dads name, it all made sense now... He was going to kill him, just for hurting me! (Little did Harry know that job was taken care of a few years ago)

I always yearned for someone to care about me, but never enough to murder someone who hurt me.

I didn't feel the urge to run or hide...

I wanted to stay and help him!

I just needed time to process this alone. "I need to go Harry..."

"Sky wait no! I wasn't the only one there were others involved..." He yelled, but I kept on. "I'll be back. I promise Harry"

I slipped out from under the covers and put on my converse.

I was still wearing Harrys clothes but it was still cold outside...

So I pulled his flannel closer to me, searching for a source of heat.

My pace increased as I desperately craved the warmth my room had to offer.

Once I'd reached my cozy room and recovered from my freezing walk home, I processed what had happened only minutes ago...

1)The boy I thought understood me and who I was possibly falling for was a deranged murderer.

&

2)And it's very cold outside.

Not a very good day but certainly effective.

•••••••••••••••••••

I'd remained confined in my home long enough (4 days). Finally I had made my decision!

Harry tried to call me. Text me. He even came over. I just hid. I needed to clear my thoughts and think. I promised him I'd be back. Nows my chance to go back.

I zipped up my coat, learning my lesson from the previous walk. When my window opened the cold air hit me and was still as bitter and crisp as I'd left it 4 days ago. Harry constantly climbing my tree and coming up to my window appealed to me so that's the way I've been leaving.

The walk wasn't as bad, considering I was prepared for it this time. I returned back to the all too familiar flat that housed the troubled boy. The same routine as always followed . I hit my brittle hand against the door, awaiting the appearance of the curly haired boy.

An unfamiliar woman stood in the doorway of Harry's flat. "Can I help you?" she asked, seeming a little flustered. "I- um... Is Harry here?"

"Oh the boy who lived here before? No, I'm afraid he's moved."