Little Miss Not So Perfect

Chapter Sixteen

      My statement shocked him because for a brief second he let go of my arm. I slowly started to take a few steps away from him. I knew I probably couldn’t outrun him if we started at the same time. I had to start running before he realized and right now his eyes were burning a hole through me.

      Mike started laughing, as his hands went up to his face. I knew that was my chance; his hands were blocking his eyes. I took off as fast as I possibly could run. My thoughts were racing, the way he started laughing, it sounded cynical and the look in his eyes screamed a hundred different emotions at once.

      I didn’t look back as I ran from Mike, but I could hear his footsteps behind me. And I knew he couldn’t be that far behind. “Sydney! Just stop this!” he screamed.

      I took a quick glance behind me and noticed I had a chance to hide. It might be my only real chance of getting away from him. If I hid, and he kept running I would be free. I dove into a thick bush and tried to quiet my rapid breathing.

      I could hear him coming up to the bush; I put my hand over my mouth so he couldn’t hear my uncontrolled breathing. I closed my eyes and prayed he wouldn’t find me.

      “Sydney! Let’s just talk about this! I didn’t mean to scare you back there. I loved Monica!” I believed in his sick mind he probably thought he really did love her.

      I heard him come to a stop, and I could hear him catching his breath. “Sydney,” he said quietly, “Blonde hair doesn’t blend into a green bush.” I felt his hands grip my arms roughly, ripping me out of my hiding spot.

      “I was never very good at hiding seek,” I joked.

      “I didn’t kill her,” he was staring right into my eyes. I wanted to believe him, it would make things so much easier but I couldn’t. I couldn’t believe him. Everything added up to him.

      I nodded slowly, hoping that he couldn’t tell I was lying. I was scared, and I felt the only chance I had of getting home tonight was to do whatever he said. “I know.” I said calmly. I needed to remember who I was. I was Sydney Harris; I could talk myself out of anything. I had to talk myself out of this.

      He roughly shoved me away as he ran his hand through his hair. He gripped it tightly and started to pull in frustration. “You don’t believe me! You’re still scared of me!”

      I shook my head, “No, no. I was, I got creeped out back there. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran.”

      He stopped pulling his hair and looked at me, “So you believe me?” He asked. I noticed something in his voice. He sounded weak almost; he sounded vulnerable.

      “Yes, I believe you. You didn’t kill her,” I told him.

      “Good. I didn’t,” he said nodding. “I’ve never told anyone about that night before. I never trusted them enough. I didn’t even tell your father,” he stated.