Demented ➳ h.s [Editing Starting Soon]

CHARLOTTE’S POV

Harry was sat across from me. Alternating from pinching his lip and folding his hands out in front of him, “If you’re pissed, just say so.”

“I’m pissed,” he said. “I’m pissed that you almost didn’t tell me that my ex-girlfriend could be plotting to keep me in this hell hole. I’m pissed that she’s fucking alive when I’m living my life basically dying. I’m pissed that I spent my time with some therapist instead of doing the shit on my own.”

Those words stung. Those words were the things he refused to say in front of Jack a few days ago. “What shit could you have done on your own? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead right now so don’t even go there, Harry.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed and sat back. “I just wish I hadn’t—,” he started. I finished the sentence in my head, “I wish I hadn’t met you.” I knew that’s what he wanted to say but refused to, knowing it was untrue in a way. In a way. That’s the sad thing because also, in a way, he did mean it. He meant that he wished he wasn’t transported to Navarro and I hadn’t bothered to try and talk to him and I hadn’t been a somewhat nice therapist. He wished he had nothing to do with me, not even knowing I existed. That’s what hurt.

“I wish I hadn’t either.” I collected all of my things and knocked on the door, letting the guard know I was ready to go.

“You’re early today,” he said.

“There was nothing left to talk about. Enjoy your day, Fred.” My work heels clicked on the tile as I was escorted back to my rightful vehicle. The drive home was nerve-wracking and I found myself paying less and less attention to the road. That led to honking and swerving and nearly dying while nearly killing people in the process.

When I got home, the top lock was unlocked. Normally the bottom and top would be locked, Celia has this safety problem. I don’t even know. Anyway, it made me think maybe she wasn’t in because of this. But I then saw her car was still in the driveway. “Celia?” I called twice. The second time was quieter; I could swear I heard deep, deep breathing.

I set my things at the door and called her again. My cell phone laid in my purse and I had the police ready to press call in case. Taking my phone and car key with me, I walked upstairs, still calling her name. “Come on,” I said. “This isn’t funny!” I didn’t announce my weapon in case she wasn’t kidding. A loud mumble and the sound of breaking glass was echoing in her bedroom. A man and a woman voice yelled for her to shut up. I pressed call on the phone and sat the phone on the banister.

Walking to her room, I ventured to mine where I got my favorite lamp and a pencil. The phone was a bit loud with the lady announcing, “Hello? Hello?” over and over again. I put my ear to the cracked door and soon my eye. I saw a body. Three bodies, actually. One was Celia, the other two were currently unidentifiable. A man and a woman, the woman having a small ankle tattoo of an ‘F’ and another wrist tattoo that looked other than the ankle, it was a star. Fading.

The woman looked over at the door and saw my eye, “Shit.” My swear caused the two to turn around. Both were wearing ski masks. Robbers? No, they hadn’t stolen anything. Maybe just plain murderers. Either way, I found myself running in the middle of the hallway to be tackled by the woman, losing my grip on the pencil and the lamp. She dragged on my feet and I could hear Celia screaming in pain.

Nails—sharp nails—dug into the moist skin on my exposed ankles, leaving blood stains and red marks. I reached and grabbed for the pencil that was closer than the lamp and picked it up. Her breathing was heavy and not at all appealing but I managed to kick her off and stood up. “Let’s dance, princess.” Hair flying back, she lunged at me and I involuntarily stabbed her in the shoulder with the pencil where she screamed, “Bitch!” and threw the pencil aside. Blood was seeping through her tight clothes and I could see her smile under the mask.

That smile was devious. Demented. I knew she was going to push me down the stairs, and so I grabbed onto her arm. Of course, my head hit every other stair, making my vision blurred and black spots in my sight. Once I got enough strength to get up, I removed the mask. “Raven?” She grunted at me and ripped a part of my hair out towards the back. The impact was rougher than the stairs and tears nearly fell, I just wouldn’t let her win.

She followed me to the living room where she found herself ready to fist fight. I knew I’d probably lose this considering the only fist fight I’d been in was with Sophie Mann when she punched Liz at school. And I still lost. I will admit her fists were strong but I ran track, meaning I could outrun her. When I ran into the pantry, I grabbed the house phone off the kitchen counter. I wasn’t planning on calling anyone.

Her footsteps, toxic and clicking on the hard tile floor. “Come out. I know you’re in here.” The footsteps landed at the front of the door. My breath caught in my throat and I rolled my eyes to keep myself from breathing too deeply. The door opened quickly and I used the phone to hit her over the head repeatedly. I went over to the stairs and Celia was sitting there shaking. The back door slammed, I knew it was the man and Raven. I could hear the heels clicking and her fake body escorting herself out the house.

“She was here.” Celia looked over at me while red and blue lights pulled up, “Raven. Harry’s dead ex-girlfriend. She was here.”

She just nodded and laid down, blood on her face and watching the police barge through the door. “You’ve lost it,” she finally said while being picked up by one of the fresh smelling police officers. Since I wasn’t hurt much, I was able to walk to the ambulance where a paramedic cared for my ankle and other marks. None were deep enough to go to a hospital and Celia’s stitches weren’t bad enough to go to a hospital so she was patched up on the spot.

I hate questioning. It feels like—although we were outside—being trapped in a room with absolutely point two-one oxygen and only standing room. The officer’s stance was lopsided along with his hairpiece. His belly was stuck out; a beer belly. A pad was in his hand and he looked intimidating. Oddly, he was okay. “Now,” he started, “tell me everything.”

I left out the fact that I knew who it was and once the questions were done, we told them we didn’t want to press charges. Celia was mad at first but I explained to her later why. The reason being Jack had left his car here the other day and they were still looking for the plates. So, I wanted the police to get off my lawn as quickly as possible. We both declined hospital service and told them we’d be fine and to seriously leave. “Well that was difficult.” Celia mumbled while sitting back on the stairs, holding her bandaged arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Me being associated with Harry means I did something. Now you have stitches and my favorite lamp is shattered.” We sighed. Celia started laughed and I asked, “What’s so funny?”

“I bit the guy in his leg.”

“Oh. I kinda stabbed Raven in the shoulder.” She laughed and rolled over on the stairs, looking at me where I’d laid down next to her.

“It’s weird. We could have totally died but it’s literally the best thing in the world. I’m glad I nearly got killed with you, Char.” I smiled and said, “Same.” Sleep took over. Only, I'm sure it wasn't sleep. Only because sleep wouldn't just fall over me like a blanket, I would normally allow myself to lay in bed. Sleep was out of the question then. Maybe it was unconsiousness that really fell onto my physically and emotionally tired body.

Notes

this chapter is terrible and short and I'm sooooo sorry but I just can't right now.. my brain hasn't been working for two weeks and something bad happened tonight soo SOOOOO SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS LITERALLY ASS.

I will promise to try harder next time, promise.

go check out my bae @XOXOH and her stories cause she's always there for moi <3

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