"нope" [h.s.]

nιgнтмareѕ

Sorry for the typos!!!

***

"What colour are your eyes?" Harry asks. This is his last question. I've been suffering the entire game.

"These are my natural colour." I say as I start to fiddle with my fingers. I look up at his eyes and he is just staring at me blankly.

"Weren't they green?" He asks, clearly confused. I nod and a small smile appears in my face. The photo of a little girl, with brown hair and deep blue eyes, appears in my mind. She has a true smile, she wasn't broken. She was herself. If someone had told me that all of this would happen to me, I would have laughed at their face. That girl was happy.

"Uhm... Yes they were. I use colour contact lenses." He furrows his eyebrows in deep concentration.

"Nor blonde." Now it's me the one confused.

"Sorry?"

"You aren't blond, are you?" How does he know?

"That was your second question. My turn." I try to change topic. I'm not in the mood and I have this voice in the back of my head warning me not to get this path.

"Where are you from?" I move my legs up on the couch. It's getting cold here.

"England, but you already knew it." He grins at me.

"Okay okay, I don't know what to ask." I say as I yawn.

"I think you should go to sleep. It's already late."

"Think so." Another yawn takes over.

"Yeah, come on." He lifts himself from the couch and lets me burrow my face in the pillow. I don't like sleeping, but right now I'm dying. He takes my shoes off and I get into the sheets.

"Just remember not to come near my room." I just nod, not having any energy left to actually talk to him. "Good night, Hols."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" He turns round, those two green eyes peering at me.

"Thanks." I close my eyes. Darkness consumes me and as I hear the door of his room closing, I fade away.

***

How do we know we are alive? How do we actually know this is not a dream? The fact that I can hear my heart beat and the fact that blood runs in my veins means nothing. I could be dead. I could be just an empty container without a soul. I could be dead, without even knowing it. Death, the end of the life of a person or organism. How do you actually know you are dead? Pressure, drowning, hopeless, there is no light for you to actually see. Darkness, the partial or total absence of light. Where the demons play with each other, were you are vulnerable to yourself. Loneliness, the act of being alone. You don't decide to be alone. People leave you, without an explanation.

The wind hits my face. I'm in a bridge, standing on the top of the only piece of wood that actually keeps me from ending it all. It seems so easy, finishing all of this, all this pain. I just have to jump. I don't see the end of it, the fog is too dense. The wood creaks and I faintly hear someone calling for me.

"Nat." Someone says, just a whisper in the wind, caressing my hair. I turn around, keeping the balance. "Nat." Again, that voice. It seems gentle, yet with a dark side. "Jump." It whispers in my ear. Someone is behind me. I feel the presence of someone. Something dark reaches for my wrist. I turn my head just to see nothing. "Jump." I snap my face to its original position. No one. Just the wind.
Yes
"Nat, jump." I knew that voice. I do know who it is. I'm not prepared to see him after what he told me, after all the playing and all the pain. "Jump." Does he hate me so much he wants me dead?