alters

08

I HAVE no perception of how much time has passed when Harry sets me on the grassy floor. Tree branches stretch and morph into sinister arms reaching out and trying to grab me. I wish I could reach back. Iʼd prefer anything over this boy masquerading as my dead friend. Dead.

Boy...? No. Murderer.

I stare out as the dark grass, the night still hindering my vision. After a few moments, black boots crumble the blades of earth digging out from the ground, and blur my vision. A low voice rings in my ears. ʻʻCan you walk?ʼʼ

I can. I just donʼt want to.

I stay quiet, curled up on the dirty, cold ground, mud and leaves matting my dark hair.

ʻʻAlice, I have so much to explain to you, but I canʼt do that if you arenʼt willing to cooperate.ʼʼ The heavy British accent brings me to the point of nauseating; so I do. I barf all over the ground in front of me, making a grotesque, smelly mess. The chunks are propelled onto that bastardʼs boots, but he doesnʼt budge an inch. ʻʻOh, Alice...ʼʼ He sighs and squats down. ʻʻDonʼt worry, youʼll get used to it.ʼʼ He murmurs before gathering me up in his arms. He is obviously nonchalant about the mess I formed due to the events that just occurred, or he just wants to forget about it for now. I want him to release me, send me on my way. I want out of this evil forest. I want away from him.

ʻʻL-Lukeʼs body...ʼʼ I moan, now realizing that this creep is planning on simply stranding Lucasʼ lifeless corpse in the middle of some evergreen profusion. This bothers me terribly.

ʻʻIʼll come back to it, letʼs just go and get you cleaned up.ʼʼ He dismisses.

ʻʻWhere are you taking me?ʼʼ Harry finally scoops me up into his hold, carrying me princess style. His strong arms curl under my bent, sore knees and around my shoulder. My head is forced to either crush against his chest or bob shamelessly and painfully against the air. So I let it bob.

ʻʻMy house. Then Iʼll take you out someplace and explain everything.ʼʼ

ʻʻExplain? Explain what? That youʼre a murder?ʼʼ The words tumble out before I can filter, and I regret calling him names. Something tells me he has a bad temper.

But Harry remains calm and collected, smoothly gliding over the uneven surface like a hovering phantom. He doesnʼt reply, for which I am fairly grateful. Unless, heʼs planning my colorful murder.

I gulp at the thought.

The remainder of the hour consists of a dull, unpleasant silence. I spend the time of quiet I have dwelling on Luke. Iʼve known him for little over four months, and now that I think back on it we werenʼt very close. He had a small, valentine crush on me; we went on a couple dates, but the spark wasnʼt there. I would have attended more of these planned occasions if I had obtained the knowledge that I would witness his murder a few months into the future. Itʼs all wrong. And I donʼt know how to react.

Harry, this charming, flirtatious, mysterious, enigmatic, punk boy is a killer.

I highly doubt they will be the problem.

Iʼd never do anything to hurt you.

In some sick, twisted way he had warned me about this, I was just too ignorant to read the motives behind his words. If I hadnʼt of brought Luke here in the first place he would still be alive.

I...I killed him. In a demented way I really did. I was the encouragement for Harry to do this.

ʻʻPut me down.ʼʼ I command, lifting my head. I take notice that I can hear the large rush of water in the distance. A waterfall.

ʻʻWeʼre almost home, Lissy, just hang in there.ʼʼ Harry consoles, squeezing his grip around me tighter.

ʻʻPut me down!ʼʼ I yell, and he pauses.

ʻʻAlice,ʼʼ He begins. ʻʻYou are a five-foot-six, seventeen year old girl who weighs, what, a hundred twenty pounds?ʼʼ

ʻʻSo?ʼʼ I counter childishly.

ʻʻI am a six-foot-four psychopathic eighteen year old man.ʼʼ

ʻʻSo what?ʼʼ

ʻʻI could crush you like a grape.ʼʼ

I frown.

ʻʻBut I wonʼt,ʼʼ He adds. ʻʻThe only reason I killed dear little Pucas, was because I needed someway to show you without me sounding crazy.ʼʼ

ʻʻBut why me? I donʼt understand.ʼʼ I groan frustrated.

ʻʻBecause Iʼve been watching you. I watch you in the library scouring through the horror section, reading novels about psychos and death. Iʼve seen the way you look when you smoke a cigarette and when you have to masquerade as your brotherʼs girlfriend at the casino.ʼʼ He stared down at me, meeting my eyes for the first time in the last hour. ʻʻAlice... I have become obsessed with you.ʼʼ

I almost want to cry. This whole time Iʼve had some psychopath stalker, and because of me Luke is dead now. Because of me.

ʻʻHarry, please, put me down,ʼʼ I whimper into his chest, at my lengthʼs end.

ʻʻGuess what? Weʼre home.ʼʼ Harry bluntly states, letting me down to my feet.

Before me I observe a something incredible. I canʼt even stand up.

---
hope Iʼve confused you all!

Vote and comment green bean.

ali.
(Thatʼs my name btw:)
(Duh, ali, we can figure that out.):<
(Okay, gosh.):