Page 152 of Obsession

CHAPTER 16

___________________________________________________

A REAL CHANCE

___________________________________________________

I spent the rest of the week obsessively avoiding Harris until he figured out something was wrong with me, but I asked for time. I didn’t know why I asked for time, but every time I saw him, I could not help but think of that horrible pool of blood.

Shane had called me the next day and told me that it was cow’s blood, probably from a slaughterhouse. He was on the case, investigating every slaughterhouse in the area and trying to get pictures from the cameras around my house, but he hadn’t found anything useful.

I hadn’t told him about the gray Range Rover. I told myself that I would tell him about it too if I saw it again, but everything had gone quiet. I tried to believe that his plan was working, but by the end of Friday, I realized how much it hurt.

How deeply Harris had burrowed into my head.

How it tore me apart to see every look he gave me, every silent plea for just a few minutes of my time so he could talk. He hadn’t been lying, he and Amber were over. He was destroyed and had lost her luster, she looked at me every step of the way like she wanted to suffocate me with her thoughts, but I had other things to do. With or without blood on my bed, I still felt like a bitch for ruining her relationship, for stealingher boyfriend. The details didn’t matter, all that mattered was that Harris had left her for me. She got revenge on me every practice and I let her, I kept my calm around her because she was heartbroken and I was the reason, no matter how toxic their relationship had been.

I knew that I would have been in his arms now were it not for that bloody message. I would have forgiven him, but fear held me back, and it wasn’t fear for myself, but for my father.

I couldn’t risk hurting him too, losing him too.

The pain in my chest sometimes spread its tentacles so much that I felt like it would swallow me whole. I’d shouted at Harris the last time he’d tried to talk to me. He sensed something had happened, my dark circles were proof of that, caused by the fact that I hadn’t gotten an hour of restful sleep in that bed.

Shane had been right; Harris would have done something reckless if he’d found out what had happened. I didn’t want to transfer that horror onto him, not when I could handle the situation on my own. After the recent events, he had lost control again and beaten Joshua, but the idiot laughed when he saw me yelling at Harris to leave me alone.

During the weekend I looked for the nearest gym and signed up. I’d found that physical exhaustion reduced my need for drugs, and in the last few days I’d needed them more than ever.

I had hoped that each day that passed would make me stronger, but it didn’t.

On Sunday night, he sent a single text message:

“Allow me to keep my promise.”

I cried the rest of the night in that damn bed until my nightmares pushed away the horrible reality.

Mondays were the worst, not because they were the worst days of the week, but because we had the most classes together.He had chosen the perfect time to stop skipping school. I mentally prepared myself for our psychology class, where we were still project partners. Last week, he had taken the doll and promised to take care of it. I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but I was glad to be rid of that whiny freak show, even if we were both probably going to get the worst grades possible. Today we had to turn in the work, and we had to sit next to each other for a long time again. I prayed to resist him, even though my strength was wearing thin.

I sat down in my seat and slammed my history book on the desk. I didn’t get as many looks as I used to. The last week had been pure torture, but now they were bored and realized that Harris and I were over. Whatever had been between us was over.

A lot of sexual attraction, secrets, and toxicity.I answered my own thoughts bitterly. That’s exactly what it was.

I tried to listen to our teacher, while he struggled to explain the main idea of “Mein Kampf”.

I felt really sick, the class seemed foggy, and a cold feeling ran through my body. I gritted my teeth and pressed my fingers to my forehead.

Not now, damn it, not now!

I hadn’t eaten enough at breakfast, I’d gone for a run, and I was late.

I cursed every dose of drugs I’ve ever taken.

“May I please go to the restroom?” I heard myself ask without even thinking about it.

The teacher paused mid-sentence and turned his attention to me.

“Of course you can! Are you all right, Miss Wrise?”

He looked at me as if he was scared. I could feel the sweat on my face; I clearly didn’t look well.

---