Warning Signs (H.S)

1

If you want an idea of what this chapter is going to be like I'd suggest taking a look at the music video for the song at the top of the chapter.(I couldn't actually link the music video because wattpad will not let me use that certain video for some reason.)

Just a heads up that the action literally starts this chapter lol

~

Terry's POV:

"Get on your knees." He choked out, not wanting to believe the situation he was in. He didn't seem like the kind of person to just kill someone.

I could tell this was difficult for him.

"I won't tell you again." The words grit from his teeth. Shakily, he points the gun at my head and it follows my movements as my legs wobble beneath me until my knees touch the grass.

I've thought about how I would die a few times actually and this never quite popped into my head.

But this is it. I'm going to die. This man is going to just pull the trigger and in milliseconds I'll be laying unconscious, limp and i'll end up just like any other empty soul that leaves this world.

24 hours earlier

"Fuck sake." I sigh while groaning at the same time in reaction to the pulsating headache I have developed.

I swear I have the worse cold I've ever had but doctors don't really care about cold's because cold's are just cold's. In that case, can a doctor please tell me why it feels like my head has been smashed against a rock multiple times and why I become extremely dizzy every time I move if it really is just a cold?

After much struggle of getting out of bed and contemplating if I should go to work or not I decide that I kind of need to pay my bills so I don't really have much of a choice.

So I dragged my groggy, half-awake self to work and I'm already regretting it.

I completed my usual routine of stumbling around my messy apartment while getting ready in the morning but only this time it was a lot more painful due to whatever sickness I had. I slipped on my black blouse over my cream shirt and put on my smart, black trousers. My work at the bank requires me to wear smart clothes and I'm not complaining because it is quite comfy.

My frizzy hair was brushed back into a semi-neat ponytail and I know I probably look like I'm supposed to be buried 6ft underground but I don't bother with any makeup. Hopefully my boss should approve of my tired complexion and understand.

I don't really like makeup anyway.

Ever since I moved to London two years ago, I have constantly been on edge; living in London is not cheap and it has been difficult transitioning from the small village I used to live in to being in a busy city away from my family and away from my friends.

My life has been complicated ever since my dad left when I was 10. Him and my mother were never in good terms which, according to my mum, was because he had a negative streak of criminal activity. My mum never specified what exactly he did but I dare never asked. I would have never quite understood at the young age of 10.