𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 ☽ 𝕒𝕙𝕤

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

𝚂𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙲𝚞𝚙 - 𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚣

☽

I sit on the doorstep, a foil blanket around my shoulders. Tate left when the cops came, it was getting late.

After I called the police I called my parents and they drove home so fast I'm surprised they didn't get pulled over.

They're both standing in the driveway being questioned by different police officers.

I see the woman get carried out of the house on a stretcher, a spot of crimson red showing through the pure white sheet, threatening to spoil the secret hidden underneath.

My mind is so far away that I barely notice the cop standing in front of me.

Her dark brown, almost black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail. It looks like she made a big effort to slick it back but wispy strands of hair still managed to escape.

The dark circles under her eyes showed though she had clearly tried to cover them up, and her mascara was smudged. I must look a lot worse right now.

'Evelyn?' She asks, snapping me out of my daze.

'Yes?' I reply, absent mindedly.

'Do you mind if I talk with you?'

I nod and she perches on the other side of the doorstep.

'So can you tell me exactly what happened?'

It's all a blur really, I can't remember the details.

'I was home alone and this woman started knocking on the door, saying she was 'hurt and needing some help'. I didn't let her in so she forced herself through the back door.' I take a deep breath in and continue, 'She knocked me out and I woke up tied to a chair. It seemed like some kind of... re-enactment or something.'

That's where it all got fuzzy - like shards of broken glass. They just don't fit together.

'What happened after that?' She pushes, noticing my hesitation.

'Some kids started knocking at the door, and when she left, I managed to wrestle myself out of the binds.' I'm worried that she'll know that I'm lying - she is a cop after all.

Tate told me not to tell the cops that he was there. I don't know why, but after all that he did for me I wasn't going to question it.

'Then... then I hit her over the head with a candlestick.' I start crying. I just saw someone get murdered - I was about to get murdered. And after what I had seen with Tate - what I thought I saw, I'm starting to doubt that I didn't kill that woman myself.

I was obviously seeing things, I just don't know how much was real.

'Thank you for your time, miss Montgomery,' she says, finishing scribbling something in her notepad.

She looks up and smiles empathetically, placing a hand lightly on my shoulder, 'What you did was out of self-defence, no one can blame you for it. And of course you aren't going to face any charges.'

I give her a sad smile and she goes back to the cop car parked a little way down the street. She starts speaking to another officer.

✧✧✧

'I don't want you spending any more time with that boy,' My dad says in a stern voice.

'What?' I object, 'That boy saved my life. If it wasn't for him I'd be dead and you might be too.'

I told my parents the truth about Tate. He saved my life and I'm not allowed to see him.

'He killed someone!'

'That was going to kill us.'

'He's still dangerous and we don't want him influencing you,' my mom says, less stern than my dad.

I storm upstairs to the bathroom and lock the door. I'm so overwhelmed by everything - school, almost getting murdered, my parents not wanting me to be around the only person that makes me happy, this house - I feel like I'm losing my mind.

*SELF HARM TRIGGER WARNING*

Sorry I know this is a sensitive subject and I tried to handle it as sensitively as possible. I didn't really want to write about this but it's a necessary plot point.

I take one of my dad's razors out of the bathroom cupboard. When I close it I'm met by my reflection in the mirror. My face is tear-stained and raw from crying. I can't take this anymore.

I think about my dad and imagine hurting him - everything that's happened is his fault and he doesn't even care.

Putting the blade to my wrist, I slide it downwards. I'm expecting pain but it's not there.

Then I hear my dad yelling from downstairs. I go to unlock the door and I realise that the cut on my wrist has disappeared.

I rush downstairs to see my dad, a cut on his wrist and my mom standing over him, trying to help.

'Wh-what happened?' I stammer, grabbing a towel from the kitchen and handing it to my dad who's clutching his wrist and grimacing.

'I have no idea, it just... it just appeared.' My mom says in confusion.

That looked like some kind of voodoo doll shit.

What in the hell just happened?

✧

can you tell i like melanie martinez? these song choices are getting worse and worse