Wildest Dreams

Chapter 17

tw// graphic descriptions of violence, temporary character death/death in a dream

Y/n's POV:

The air is cold, but it's not the usual sweet-smelling chill of dusk. It is a musty, stale cold that permeates my entire body. It is so bright that I have to squint, but it is not the usual glow of the sunset. It is a harsh, green fluorescent light that falls from the high ceilings. The dusty concrete floor is nothing like the plus grass that I am used to, and instead of bright yellow flowers decorating the ground, it is blood splatters and broken glass.

I look down at my body and it is warm like I am being held in Spencer's embrace, but the warmth comes from the fresh blood that covers a good portion of my sundress. I look up to the scratched wooden chair where Leora is tied, her lids half-closed in a daze.

"Look what you made me do", I say, surprising myself with how raspy my voice has become.

"I didn't do this", she chokes out before spitting out blood that has gathered in her mouth from her split lip.

"Oh, so you're innocent?", I ask condescending.

"Yes. I am so, so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to take it this far."

I walk forward and crouch in front of her so I am on her eye level. The glass on the floor crunches under my sandals and I notice how she cringes at the noise. I hold her jaw gently, a sharp contrast to my previous actions. Her body tenses at my touch and I do not try to soothe her. I want her to be afraid of me.

"Forgiveness is a nice thing to do", I say as my face splits into a wicked grin. "I can't even say it with a straight face."

I bring my hand back from her face a few inches before striking her cheek. Tears immediately spring from her eyes and leave tracks in the dirt on her face. The scab on her lip splits open again and fresh blood drips from her cut.

"You say sorry just for show", I spit. "You wanted to see me suffer. Maybe I got mine, but now you'll get yours."

I ball my hand into a fist and make contact with her jaw, the white-hot pain in my knuckles drowned out by the delicious crunch of her bones. My other hand goes to pull her dirty hair back so she is looking up at the ceiling, the bright lighting blinding her.

"Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me? This is why we can't have nice things, darling", I say, the pet name like venom on my lips. "You break them, I want to take them."

"I-I hope you... burn in hell", she croaks.

"You took him away from me. I'm already in hell."

I throw her head back and walk over to the wall where I have a wooden baseball bat propped against the wall. I pick it up and twirl it around in my hands as I stalk back towards her.

"For the longest time, you were the actress in my bad dreams. This is the first time that I will be the winner here, and I plan to savor it."

I tip her chin up with the end of the bat and I relish in the flash of dread behind Leora's eyes. I push slightly on her throat and she gasps out in protest.

"Beg me not to", I say.

"You don't want to do this, please don't kill me. You love me, remember? This isn't you, you're just angry. If you do this you can never come back, please, Y/n. You're not a bad person, you just did a bad thing", she pleads.

I bring the bat to rest against her temple and give her an evil smile.

"You say I did something bad, but why does it feel so good?", I ask as I bring the bat back. It only takes one hit to the side of the head to knock her unconscious.

I throw the bloody bat to the floor and stand over my former best-friend. I watch her until her pulse stops and her blood runs cold.

The landline that is set up on the metal table beside Leora's chair starts to ring. I shuffle through the broken glass, blood, and tears to pick up the receiver.

"Y/n, where are you? I've been looking for you everywhere, darling. I miss you so much", Spencer says, his worried voice flooding the speaker.

"Sorry, the old Y/n can't come to the phone right now", I say.

"Why?", he asks.

"Because she's dead", I say before dropping the phone, sending it clattering to the floor.

I can hear Spencer calling my name faintly, but I ignore it. I find an old gas can and uncap the nozzle before pouring it onto the floor. Next, I take out a book of matches and grip one tightly in my hand. I hesitate as I think about Spencer and the life we could have had if Leora didn't interfere. Anger surges in my chest as I think about her, and the invisible string in my brain snaps.

I strike the match against the book and throw it to the ground. I run towards the exit of the warehouse and watch as it burns. I feel a presence behind me and I turn to see Spencer. He doesn't look worried or betrayed, rather satisfied.

Spener wraps both of his arms around my middle and pulls me against his lean body. The scene is sad, beautiful, and tragic, and I couldn't be happier.

"You belong with me", I say and I warp my arm around Spencer's neck.