They say every cloud has a silver lining. Cliché, I know. But, with twenty-year-old psychology student - Meliora Simmons, the clouds only appear to turn a darker shade of gray with no evidence of a bright side. Nightmares haunt her since her childho...
Hey guys, so sorry for the late update, got tangled with life and health stuff. Plus, I edited the first chapter after, was a major pain haha.
Enjoy!
⤟--------------------⤠
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❰Meliora❱
"Did you..." I hesitated before continuing cautiously, "did you kill that guy?"
Even as I asked that question, I dreaded its answer. My eyes widened in anticipation; every second that passed by only made me anxious. My heart rapidly kept leaping out of my chest with liberty, almost as if hammering against the cover of my skin. It was ready to give up and thump on the floor like it never even belonged to me.
A part of me hesitated to hear that he had killed the poor boy. I didn't want him to be a killer because if he was, I wouldn't know what to do. And that scared me, but not more than the idea of what he would do to me after I found out about his psychotic killings.
"What? No!" he growled, sounding angry and offended. His voice sent shivers down my spine, contrary to his words that gave me a sense of relief. I thanked the Lord for a second for not making him a killer before looking at him again. He was giving me a hostile look that seemed to be directed towards my presumptuousness. Feeling ashamed and somewhat guilty, I looked down towards my hands that held the flashlight.
He didn't say anything further and just started walking again, leaving me brimming with questions. If he didn't kill the boy, why did I see him? Was he really there that night? Had he seen the thing that killed Matt? If so, why hadn't he informed the sheriff yet?
I frantically ran behind him, trying to keep up. He wasn't going to give me any answers so easily, I had that feeling. I had tried prying it out of him but that was a waste. I only had one other way to pull it out of him. So I took a deep breath before ending the silence with my answer.
"I was here to search for something," I told him and waited for his response. He only kept walking, dodging a few branches and leaves. I couldn't help but feel annoyed by his silence. Did he not hear me? I opened my mouth to repeat myself but he cut me off by saying,
"What did you lose?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I never said I lost something."
Call me paranoid, but every statement he made in our conversation so far was so cryptic and indicative of his knowledge about the events that happened in the past. It scared the living daylights out of me.
He stopped in his tracks and turned a one-eighty degree to look at me. His eyes met mine as he said, "you can't find something you never lost."
He was about to avert his gaze but I held it, I pinned it down with mine and pierced into his beautiful hazel eyes with my blue ones. God! His eyes were so mesmerizing, so molten, so fervid. It felt like I was gazing directly at the burning sun; waiting for it to burn my soul. Suddenly, I was out of breath and warming up on the inside. My lips parted in a desperate attempt to gasp for air, my heart was palpitating and crying out for help but my brain was fixated on adoring those eyes that were so easy to look at, despite the darkness around.
