7

I told Olivia.

I said I wouldn't, to keep her out of danger.

But I did.

I had to.

She saw the haunted look on my face when I made eye contact with him. She wouldn't let it go. She kept saying "Haven, I know something's wrong, you're not fooling me. What is it?"

So I told her.

About the warnings, my worry for those close to me, this game Death's playing, Everything that she didn't already know.

She didn't take it well, knowing she could be in danger - she started hyperventilating.

It took me a while, but I managed to calm her down, promising her that nothing would happen to her. And, rather reluctantly, we went our separate ways, making the long walks to our houses.

Today, the walk home seems to drag. My mind is spinning, was the bird another warning? If it is, what is he trying to tell me?

The only sounds heard on the empty street are the soft thuds of my feet battering the cement, as I walk at a fast pace. But in front of my eyes, the street seems to stretch as the weight of the situation comes crashing down on me. My steps slow and my feet become immensely heavier, whilst my breaths become harsher, and more laboured. I begin to panic as the warnings finally set in - he's going after someone closest to me. Someone who knows everything, which leaves two people in my circle of friends and family - Olivia, or my father. There's no way I can be around the two of the every second of every day - that's practically impossible. I halt my walking and lean against the bricked wall of a building for support, as my breaths come in short and quick bursts.

I'm going to lose one of them.

I stand, leaning on the wall for a few moments, desperately attempting to calm my crazed breathing. When I finally compose my breathing, I glance up to the still elongated street, a sudden immense wave of exhaustion overcoming me. I shake my head in an attempt at ridding myself of the fatigue, only to become dizzy and disorientated.

With a great amount of effort, I manage to push myself off the wall and stagger the rest of the long walk home in my giddy state.

It takes a drastically long time to reach the familiar white front door of my house, which I all but collapse on. I gently rest my forehead on the small section of cool, translucent glass in the centre of the door, before closing my eyes and counting to ten, hoping to rid myself of the dizziness.

I slowly peel my face away from the cool surface, before my hand finds my steel key in the pocket of my coat, and roughly shoves it in the lock. With a slight creak, I fling open the door to be greeted by the familiar cream, patterned entranceway which I've see almost every day for sixteen years, but never got bored of.

I used to trace the patterns when I was younger.

I slowly unravel my scarf, and unbutton my coat, before discarding both items of clothing, and leaving them on the stairs' railing. I untie my shoes with thumbing fingers, and kick them to the side - I'll worry about them later. Right now, I need to worry about wether I will collapse from this exhaustion. I need to be completely ready for when he strikes

With clumsy feet, sluggish movements and a massive amount of effort, I haul my body up the stairs. I lug myself towards my bedroom door and fling it open. Throwing my bag down onto the floor, next to the door, I let it swing shut on its own accord. My slow steps take me over to the window seat, and i, again, rest my head against the glass - the frigid material soothing my dizziness, and temporarily curing my exhaustion.

I sit there, watching nature out of the window - animals playing, trees swaying, plants dancing in the breeze. At some point, I hear the front door open and my fathers familiar voice call into the quote house, "I'm home!"

I quickly call back words of acknowledgement before going back to watching, everything.

And then, the light begins to die.

The sky darkens to the familiar shade of deep blue. Then, almost violently, splashes of red appear, like paint being thrown across a canvas, until the sky is filled with quintessential shades of red.

A yawn escapes from my lips as I finally succumb to the exhaustion. I halfheartedly change into my black pyjamas, before dragging my weighted body towards the warm, brown covers of my bed.

The moment my head hits the pillow, I'm out, dead to the world - just like the light.