Flash from the Past(Editing)

Chapter Nine: Don't look Back

"I am sick of taking care of you!" Roger yelled at me.

Waterfalls of tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry" I bawled, "I have nowhere to go."

"I don't care, I can't take the stress anymore!"

My heart dropped, with his words echoing through my ears. I ran out the front door as it rained cats and dogs.

"Help me!" My voice ranged out.

Later I was running swiftly, not knowing where I was or where I was running to. I tripped and tried to get up, each time I did, I slipped back down again. Unfamiliar voices laughed in my head.

I gasped, breaking into a cold sweat. My heartbeat thumped loudly in my ears.

It was the middle of the night, I lay restless on Roger's couch. Millions of thoughts and scenarios ran through my mind. Every time I fell asleep, I woke back up from a dream I wanted to bypass.

I sat up and shook my head. I felt caught in a trap. I wanted to cry but nothing came out. My heart was still racing throughout my body as a headache formed. Eventually, I got up to get a drink of water from the kitchen sink.

I felt like an intruder in Roger's place. I got a cup from the cabinet and quietly turned on the facet. Water from the past tastes better than now, it must be the sewage problems, I'm not too sure. I gently put down the cup in the sink.

"Can't sleep?"

I jumped right out of my skin. I clutched my chest and inhaled sharply.

Roger laughed at the fact he scared me. He stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his hand resting on the door frame with no shirt on while taking a drag of a cigarette. I thought I was going to faint.

"Are you going to answer me?"

"Yeah, I can't sleep," I spoke heavily.

"What were you doing?" He asked.

"Getting a drink of water."

"I was going to get a drink too."

He went over to the fridge and got a beer.

"Do you think it's late?"

"It's never too late to drink." He smirked, "do you want one?"

"No, thank you."

"You are never fun."

"Excuse me?" I pretend to be hurt.

"You are constantly worrying." He explained.

"Why would I not?"

He stared at me for what felt like hours. His eyes locked inside mine.

"Maybe drinking will help you forget about your problems and get to sleep."

"Fine." I gave in.

He was pleased and tossed me a beer. I almost dropped it on the floor. He laughed at my clumsiness.

"Oh shut your mouth." I smiled.

I drank silently with Roger Taylor. It was strange but exciting at the same time.

"Why did you get rid of your clothes?" He asked suddenly.

I was startled by his question, and I almost choked.

"I feel like you're not telling the truth."

Oh no, he was onto me

"Are you sure you got rid of your clothes?"