JANE

My mind was whirling and I felt as if might pass out.

"I don't want to talk to you anymore." Those were the few words which I managed to brim off my tongue as I slammed the door at Ashton.

Regret boiling like blood in my body as I choked my breath and allowed the tears to roll down my eyes. I was not hurt or sad, but I was angry for letting myself slip into his warm haze, which I obviously liked. I flipped my damp shirt off my head and threw my coat on the bed, shivering. I entered the washroom and looked at myself in the mirror; my lips turning blue as my clothes were still wet and it seemed as if the air conditioner was switched on to high speed. I threw a fist on the mirror in front or me, hard enough to crack the surface without letting it break into pieces.

I turned on the shower, the soothing hot water started streaming down my body as I recalled my entire day. My thoughts captivated by Ashton; the song slurred so beautifully on his lips and the way his arms wrapped around my waist caused an exasperating effect on me, a rage exploded in my brain and I felt humiliated. When he pushed me against the wall a few minutes ago, I felt like encircling my arms around him. I was mad at myself, frustrated and what not. A fevered need to be close to him ran across my mind. I acted like an infuriating dangerous flame, but he still managed to watch me gently; his touch soft enough to put off the fire burning in my heart.

Is this boy even for real? Why does he keep trying? Everything I said to him today was a lie except for one; I will never talk to him. Never. Never. Never. I need to fight down the demand of my rampaging desires. He calls me Hope and I call myself Numb.

Submitting myself to the bed and making up my mind about not talking to him ever again, I allowed the power of sleep to overcome me.

***

Two weeks later

"Get off me!" I shouted, my eyes closed as I gripped the shoulder of the weight; it was pinning me down on the bed. I was whimpering as the fragility made me feel as if my bones would crush under the extreme pressure. I opened my eyes and to my extreme horror, I saw the sight of a very familiar figure. I gulped in fright, cold sweat streaming down my forehead and I felt a lump appearing in my throat as I realized the tufted rough hands rapped around my neck, taking my life away.

"Dad, please don't kill me..I- I- loved you," I sobbed, but he said nothing; there was no silence and I was only able to hear his roaring voice. He kept shouting but I was not able to make out what he was saying. From his rapid breathing, it was obvious he had been drinking and in that instant, I felt like I was six all over again. I stared at him, tears rolling down my eyes in a brutal manner. The beast still looked the same as I last saw him; his straight blonde hair blocking his sight and a little stubble present on his chin. I had his eyes, the ones I hated as they witnessed the death of my mother.

With all the strength buried inside my core, I kicked the vile creature numerous times, fighting him off my body.

"You cannot kill me like you killed mom," I screamed. The weight lifted as I fought off at the top of my lungs, he landed on the floor and I sat on top of him, ready to kill him without having any second thoughts. Bastard.

Suddenly, the light in the room turned from pitch black to yellow and the oppressive air in the environment drifted away, no longer lingering around. It was early in the morning.

The puzzling pieces of my dreams seemed real, but I knew I was hallucinating. I have been having rapid attacks since age six and no therapist has ever been able to let me out of it. Not yet. It all started falling into place as the confusion replaced, nothing was true, but I could swear I felt like his presence was still in my hotel room, dirtying my sheets with the saliva.

I was on the floor, my knees pressed against the ground and my hands curled into a tight fist, gripping the edges of the silk pillow, ripping them open like my emotions. The melancholy was overtaking me as I turned and laid on my back. Startled by my emotions, I shoved my messy hair off my face, which were glued to my cheeks due to the moisture caused by my warm tears. With those dark thoughts, I recalled the way it felt as I was buried in Ashton's arms. I had not talked to him for weeks despite the fact that he tried to approach me a few times. I wanted him to bury his face in my hair just like he did the first time. It was the first time I had realized that someone cared for me and, after all, he was the only person I had talked to properly ever since the brutal life changing incident. I knew that I did not have any deep feelings for him, but I finally saw him as my friend.

Within a few seconds, the alarm started ringing along with the loud knock on my door. "Please be Ashton, please!" I whispered to myself as I rushed towards the door but stopped half way through;

Jane, just because you are scared does not mean you need him. Okay fine, he is a friend but don't trust him too much, don't slip.

With those thoughts, I put on a serious face while unlocking the door and to my disappointment, it was room service. No sight of Ashton at all.

***

Note: Yes, I am still sick so again a short chapter. Oh and I published this by mistake a few hours back, lol, it was a draft :p.

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