The Thorns To Her Rose

Chapter 6 - Tutor him?

Tutor him?

The week went by so slowly, but it is finally Friday. I can't begin to explain how excited I am for the weekend. Not because anything special or exciting is about to happen, but because I love the weekends and staying in my room in the comforts of my bed. Without any Asher, Patricia or any other people who make my life miserable. My mood has been down the entire week.

One word can explain why,

Asher.

This is how the events of Thursday afternoon played out. It can explain why I feel miserable, down and sullen but it can also explain why I feel happy.

When I arrive at home, I unlock the door with my own key given that my mom and dad weren't home yet. I step into the silent and slightly chilly house before slipping off my school pumps and placing it by the door. I shrug off my blazer and hang it up on one of the golden hooks near a bookshelf in our lounge. Clad in my long white socks, my dark blue checkered skirt that ends four inches above my knees (courtesy to the fact that I've been growing over the years) and my long sleeved white shirt, I prance towards the kitchen and hum a tune of one of my favourite songs.

I don't hesitate to rummage through both the fridge and pantree for something to eat that would make me feel better. I find my favourite snack to eat-

Okay, hold up. Let's fast forward to the part that can explain why I feel miserable.

After possibly eating the entire fridge up, I let out a satisfied sigh and fail to notice the sound of the front door opening. Curse me for always forgetting to lock. I'm about to head up to my room, when I hear the front door closing and locking. I look towards the door with wide eyes. I feel relief when I see that it's not a possible seriel killer or rapist, but someone even worst, Asher.

Without even thinking about what I'm about to do next, I turn around and rush up the stairs and to the safety of my room. I let out a yelp as I nearly trip halfway up the stairs. Unlike Asher who plays sports for most of his day, I lounge around and eat my body's weight in the form of Pringles and can't run to safe my life. I hear Asher's evil laugh and I now that he's hot on my heels.

I see my white room door and cheer in victory when I get inside. That same victory is short lived when I try to shut the door close but a hand forcefully pushes it open. I squeal in fear and immediately back up towards my bed. I don't even try to run towards my bathroom, knowing that it won't be long before Asher catches up. It won't do much besides give Asher the satisfaction that he can catch me and waste my much needed energy for when things come down to me having to fight him.

I stare at Asher in horror now when he shuts my room door and gives me one of his most famous dark, conniving and sexy smirks. Jesus Christ.

"Do you have any idea how good it feels to chase you? My little prey." He says darkly, his expression looking absolutely evil. Or my definition of evil.

"Psychopaths and seriel killers enjoy chasing their victims before they butcher them. They love the thrill of the chase, and when they catch their victims a huge, ugly smile is planted on their faces. Like you now." I say, breathlessly.

The smirk drops from Asher's face.

"You don't know when to shut up do you, Rosie?"

"I'm just stating facts."

"You really know how to push someone's buttons. You really fucking know how to push mine." He begins, approaching me slowly. Almost like when a lion approaches a dear. Slowly at first, but when they get close enough they pounce. "You make me so fucking angry, Rosie. Like no one has ever before."