mirror game

VII.

"Thats going to be fun, with you and me."

A shiver, spreading at my neck, crawled its way down my spine, reaching my limbs, filling my organs with coldness. I gasped for air since it felt like something is lacing up my throat with a thin rope, slowly yet trying to make it as painful as possible.

As my hands reached out to get hold of my throat and my neck, looking for anything that's the source of these awful feelings, my eyes looked for Harold's at the same time. His head was tilted to the side a bit, his bright eyes drilling in mine.

"Stop" I begged, voice low.

I couldn't make a clear, loud tone because the rope was taking any power away. Neither I could properly breathe and I felt like throwing up when it laced closer.

"Please."

As I tried to keep my eyes up, searching for contact with his, his gaze, he would finally stop. As his looks left my face and discovered the very rest of the hall, all I could do is gasp for even more air and make hold of my neck once again. My breathing was fast and so raced my heart. I realized that this fun was meant to be pain for me but rather malicious joy for him.

Asshole.

"You do realize that as long as you won't stop offending me in any way, I will only keep injecting you pain since I can not only hear but also influence your thoughts, Rosalie." he spoke, being turned away from me.

"Just kill me already." I whispered with a weak voice.

He let out a scornful, cocky laugh and everything I wanted to do - if I had enough power to - was jump up and kill him, though I knew that this was more than just impossible. He let so much anger rise in my inner and this only after approximately one day. He still was a stranger to me - this is what I wanted our relationship to be - but still he was so obnoxious to me. I hated him.

"Where is the fun in killing someone?" he gave back, slightly turning his head but not taking a look at me.

"That's what I ask you, Harold. It was you eventually who killed my friends-."

"You know that it's only, like, 3 minutes ago?" he cut me off, turning now and standing in front of me, towering over my small body sitting on the floor with his large legs and torso and an evil gaze featuring his look.

"That you killed my friends? That was yesterday." I snapped, avoiding his peer on me.

"No, it was only 3 minutes ago when you decided not to converse with me any longer." Harold laughed.

My eyes shot up even more and they discovered him slowly sitting down. As there was only a small space still separating us, I pushed myself away from him, sliding a few feet backwards.

"Why are you so afraid?" he asked curiously.

"Why are you so blind?" I shot back. "I mean it's on the dice that you make me fear everything. Lastly also because I nearly died just a minute ago."

"You wouldn't have died." Harold said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry I forgot that there's no fun in killing someone."

"Actually, it's rather where's the fun in killing you." he muttered to my surprise.

Why would he say that? He's a stranger to me which means at the same time that I'm a stranger to him, too. He may have kept me here for a day, watched me going crazy and didn't even let me notice but still he had no occasion to say something like this.

"Rosalie, we are definitely no strangers." Harold said with an amused tone in his voice.

I felt pain crawling through my veins up to my brain to reach my nervous system and make me go insane in there. He was inside my head, his words were and so was his voice and all I wanted to do was still jump up and kill him and show him how it feels like to the weaker one but I couldn't because I didn't have enough power to but he did. Harold was able to kill me with one hand, I'm so sure about that and to be honest, I didn't even want to try out and risk anything. Even though probably killing would be the better of an idea right now than sitting around, conversing with the death and knowing that he's never going to let me out again. I wanted to die so bad, yet I was curious what would be so much worse in death than in being alive, referring to Harold himself.

"I could tell you what I was talking about when I told you but I don't want you to be horrified about death." he cut off my thinking.

I shook my head immediately, having some terrible thoughts on my mind but yet I was trying to make them go away and push them off because he could still hear them and they'd clearly make Harold go super angry.

"I guess there's nothing more horrifying than the things life does to you, so I reject reciprocating." I said nodding, taking my eyes off of Harold.

"And I guess that you've just never witnessed anything in your own life that gives you the ability to say something like this."

I took an imaginary step back. I was offended. What would him make to say this? He hardly knows anything but my name, if he even knew anything than my name, so what would give him the ability to judge about me in this way? He just couldn't do that. He just couldn't and that's what made me so upset.

"Just let me get home, okay? That's all I'm asking for." I muttered, looking to the side.

"See, that's your problem. If there's a conflict where your opinion hits on one another's, you just start a hare and try not to get back on this."

I saw him standing up in the corner of my eye. My jaw clenched automatically and my hands drilled into the fabric of my jeans but yet I wouldn't stand up for myself to talk against his statement.

His light steps and the way his shoes hit the floor whilst walking to the door, I assume, were to be heard. Harold made me so angry, never someone ever has before. I just thought that it's this way because he's a phanton and he has the ability to read my mind and influence my thoughts and so he just wants to upset me but yet I knew that I was still caught in my goddamn own dream and the fact that I couldn't get out just made me go insane.

I heard the sounds stop right before his voice echoed through the hall once again.

"But Rosalie, I tell you one thing." he said. "You cannot always run away."

-

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