Page 34 of Soul of a Psycho

I take off again, fresh fear gripping at my insides. What does he want? To kill me? I can’t imagine my life would play out like a horror movie, but that’s the only thing that comes to my mind. I run as fast as I can in my slippers; the ground becoming more damp the deeper into the woods I run. Sharp twigs stab at my legs, and I can’t help but shriek. God, no one is going to hear me out here.

Except for him.

I make a point to clamp my mouth shut, veering to the right, away from where I was whimpering like an easy target. My heart wants to claw its way out of my chest at the lack of oxygen, but it needs to calm down because I need to be quiet, and I need it to propel me faster.

Cheerleading seems like a lifetime ago, and I’m in no shape to keep up with the pace I’ve found. I need to hide. But the night casts everything into a shadow, and I can barely see two feet in front of me.

The wind suddenly picks up, gusting my hair across my face and blinding me. It’s cool against my perspiring skin, butnothelping. Also, a primal part of me worries that it’s going to send my fear riddled scent right to him.

I whip my head back, looking for any sign of him gaining on me, but all I see is thick foliage that has closed at my back like anangry hand. I contemplate if I’m going to get lost out here, but I need to survive first. But do I really think he’s out to kill me and not just scare me?

No sooner than I think it, something hisses past my ear. I jump back as a dagger embeds itself in a tree right in front of me. Panic steals my breath as hot tears blur my vision. That could have easily sunk into the flesh of my back, and I flinch, as if it did, imagining the sharp tip puncturing vital organs.

I scream, not able to keep it down, and start running again.

I can’t tell if I’m hyperventilating or just exerted as I weave through the thicket of trees, dipping under branches. Twigs snag in my hair, and somehow I taste gritty dirt in my mouth. Sweat collects under my jacket, causing it to cloy at my skin, but I have to keep running.

At some point, I lose a slipper, and bits of the forest stab at my foot. It’s no doubt bleeding, but I have to keep going. I scream periodically, terror gripping me in waves.

I finally stop, exhaustion seeping into my bones like liquid iron. Surely, I’ve outrun him by now. I lean back against a tree, my breaths dry on my tongue, but my cheeks wet with tears. I glance around, wondering if I’ve gotten myself lost. But when I do, my eyes catch on an unnatural white, a flash that doesn’t fit with the shadows. I gulp, realizing I’ve made a grave mistake.

He’s right in front of me. Watching me. I shudder at his crudely painted face, at the chaotic strokes of white and black, melding together in a marred facade of horror. How did he get in front of me? Have I been running towards him, somehow in circles? Or did he slip around me?

He slowly lifts an arm, a blade glinting in the night. I’m pulled from my freeze and thrown back into flight as he waves the sharp point at me. God, this is a game to him. A sick fucking game. Fresh tears burn my eyes as I take off, but I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

“Help!” I scream, thinking I better try before I lose the ability to. “Please! Help me!”

Screw getting in trouble for being out after curfew. I want to live. I cry out for anyone, anything, even a wild animal that might take him out before me.

My foot suddenly doesn’t hit solid ground, and instead plunges into something icy. My balance ricochets me forward, and I land in frigid water. There’s a fucking pond out here?! I sputter the dirty water out of my mouth, but I’m soaked, padding at the water in the dark, and feeling my way to a rocky shore. I pull myself up and immediately fall onto my knees, the new weight of water holding me down.

Another blade whirls past me then, this one landing point first into the soil, and I scramble up. I run for my life, feeling imaginary knives piercing my back with every step. I shove at the forest, breaking my way through it, darting like an expert rabbit.

Until I’m not. I hit a trunk, or something on the ground that rams my toe bones into each other, and I cry out, tumbling to the right and onto my elbow. The pain steals my breath, shooting up my arm, into my shoulder, and settling in my teeth. I bite my tongue against my defeat and curl up, hauling myself against a tree and dissolving into sobs. I tried. I really tried. But I can’t run anymore. I wrap my arms around my knees, pulling them close to my chest, and put my head down.

I don’t want to see him when he reaches me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cade

Ithink I was in a nightmare, listening to Sky’s screams. She was terrified, but I don’t know of what. It had to be a nightmare. But the next thing I know, I’m freezing, pumping through the woods, trying to find her.

Did I hallucinate? Have I finally cracked? Or is she really out here? She can’t be. I want to smack myself to get a grip, but I can’t go back to sleep if there’s a chance it’s really her. Her screams were horrific, desperate, and I don’t trust my addled mind to tell the difference between real and imagined.

My breath comes in shallow gulps, my heart ricocheting around my chest as I stomp through the night. I know I look crazed, that I’m being manic, but I can’t quell the idea that something awful has happened to Sky—delicate, defenseless, Sky.

I run faster, my gaze whipping around the forest, scanning for bronze hair. I’m not going fast enough, my limbs heavy with sleep because of the fucking sleeping pill. My mind is fuzzy with that static of getting up before the substance has run its course, and I might as well be drugged.

I hate taking pills, but some nights I just can’t sleep. The sockets behind my eyes will ache for rest, and I know that if I don’t take it, sleepless nights will turn into sleepless weeksuntil I’m a zombie, shuffling around, ready to bite at any minor inconvenience. It’s the only one I allow myself to have from the lineup of medications I’m supposed to be taking from my days at Briarcreek. The rest get flushed down the toilet. But now, I wish I had flushed the sleeping pills too. I’m so out of it from the tiny white oval, so frantic with worry, that I’m not paying attention to where I am. I duck and dodge and leap, but I’m just running aimlessly, hoping like fuck that it was just a nightmare. I’m so detached, imagining the horrors that could have elicited such screams, that I forget about the rushing stream.

Like a fuckin idiot, I fall face first. The icy sting of water jolts me, soaking my clothes and sending a shock through me. It banishes the static in my brain, slapping me awake.

For fuck’s sake.

I’m completely drenched, my hair plastering itself over my eyes. I slowly bring myself to my knees, and with a groan, run my hands down my face to get the muck off. Bits of forest debris and mud run down my neck, and I lift my shirt to slough it off.

What the fuck am I even doing? I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, falling back onto my ass in the water. I’m running through the woods at night chasing phantom screams. Is this the result of depriving myself of her?

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