Rescue Me [H.S.]

7. Wrong Choice of Words

Victoria's POV

I wake up with a scream, soaked in my own sweat and tears in my eyes. Two seconds after waking up I forget what I my nightmare was about, I only remember the feeling of being terrified. Soon the feeling slips away, when my curly-haired rescuer comes running into my room.

"What's wrong?" he yells, while his eyes scans my room for murderers or anything else that might cause me to yell in my sleep.

His distressed look causes me to smile and forget about how horrible I look and feel for a moment.

"Nothing.. It really was... nothing, just a stupid nightmare. Sorry I woke you up."

He just shakes his head and looks at me weirdly, "I hope the movie didn't cause your nightmare." I almost say: "I wish!" but luckily I stop myself.

I'm all sweaty and warm, and probably very pale, too, but let's face it, I'm always pale.

"Well.. ehm.. do you want a glass of water?" he asks and looks at me nervously, like I'm gonna faint or something.

"I can get it myself," I say and slowly stand up, my legs are a bit shaky, though I have no idea why.

Even though it's the middle of the night and there is no light, he notices my shaking legs. Not more than a few seconds later, he's at my side, arms around my shoulder, leading me towards my bed.

"No need to be a fool," he says with a sigh, and for the first time, I'm not sure if he's joking or being dead serious. "You're not leaving your bed, until I so say. Understood?"

I open my mouth to protest; I always cut after a nightmare, but there is no reason to tell him that. Same thing about the razor blade I've hidden in my luggage - no need to tell him that either. I wonder why he hasn't asked me about my scars, and why I do it. He must have seen them. Maybe he's afraid the answer will make sense to him.

* * *

I've now laid in bed for a few days - it turns out I had a fever, and I feel nauseous all the time. Harry is so busy freaking out about my illness that he hasn't really thought about why, when I throw up, there is only spit and no food. Lucky for me, I guess.

"Hi," Harry enters and interrupts my thinking. "Are you completely sure you're okay about this?" Harry asks for the 1000th time. Harry is going out tonight, because the other boys are forcing him to do so - or so he says.

"Yeah, totally. I can take care of myself," I say, I wish that was true but the last few days has proven the opposite. He looks at me, still not believing me 100%. I hate the fact that he knows me better than anyone I've ever known.

"Okay, but the next time, you're coming with me, you're gonna love it."

Maybe he doesn't know me that well. "Just rent the movies you wanna see, and like.. do whatever you like, order what you want and..." He looks a bit unsure.

"Go!" I command and point to the door. "I'm fine!" I add and force a smile to appear on my lips.

"Okay," he says, and then he gently kisses my forehead before backing out of my room while waving at me. "Remember to just do whatever you want!" I hear from the hallway. That was the wrong choice of words, I think, as the thought of finally being able to cut gives me the strength to stand up and slowly, but steadily, walk toward my luggage, where my razor blade is hidden.

//Please vote if you like this story