Torn

My heart slams against my ribcage as I sprint through the woods, ignoring the pounding ache that throbs against my head. The urge to survive claws at my chest, the desperate urge to leave here alive gnaws at me with an intensity that fuels my resolve.

Tears stream down my cheeks, but I don't stop.

Heavy footsteps pound in my ears, loud snarls echo in my ears, but I keep clutching the bracelet in my hands like it'll make him remember. He keeps chasing me, desperate to end my life, and finally, I trip, falling on my face as a twig tears through my skin.

A heart wrenching cry escapes my lips as I try to stand.

The pain burns through my skin.

I realize this is the end.

I can never escape this.

Not when his scent already envelopes me, mixing with the fresh scent of pines and mud. Through my wet, gummy eyelids, I search his eyes, hoping he'll come to his senses, hoping he'll drop the knife and tell me he loves me again.

But he drops to his knees.

He shakes his head, his fingers trembling as he stares at the silver knife. He is kneeling before me, his dark curls framing his striking features, and even if I'll die by his hands, I want to look at them one last time.

He leans closer and I don't pull away.

Before I can take another breath, he thrusts the silver knife into my chest, a single tear spilling down his cheeks. Pain wracks through my body with violent force. I look down at the knife and saw it burried in my own skin.

I try to reach for his face, but he shakes his head. “Forgive me.”

~~~~~~

A heart wrenching cry escaped my lips as my eyes shot open. Sweat trickled down my back, down my neck, my whole bed was soaked with sweat, and I couldn't stop my body from trembling.

It's the same nightmare again.

The same night mate that kept haunting me for as long as I could remember. But for the first time, I saw him. I saw his face, heard his words, saw the pain swirling in his eyes before he buried the knife in my chest.

But it was just a dream.

Just like my therapist had said, it was only a symptom of my trauma, the fact that I couldn't move on from my parent's brutal accident.

I wasn't just going to sit here and drown in the sorrow.

I had lectures to catch up with.

~~~~

“I'll see you in school, sunshine.” My sister, Glendale, waved at me with a wide smile on her lips. I nodded at her, closed up the door and got into a taxi that'd been waiting for a while.

After the death of our parents, Glendale and I had been getting part-time jobs just to survive. It was the hardest part of the whole thing called ‘living’ and the fact that I still had to sit with a man in a tailored suit for my mental health was more draining.

The driver pulled up at the garage of my college, and I got down, putting my nonchalant face card on to chase the bullies away.

I strolled into the hallway, ignoring the questioning and mocking glances I got from almost everyone. They all hated me. You could see it swirling in their eyes, the dark urge to force my face into a large pool of water and strip me of the ability to breathe.

It happened once.

A bunch of clique girls pushed me into a pool during a party for merely existing. I literally almost drowned, but my best friend, Sarah, was there to save me on time.

I clutched my bag stripes, tightening my grip on them, walking through the hallway like I was unbothered, but in the real sense, it pricked my skin like a sharp needle.

“I thought she wouldn't be in school after the pool Incident.” Right, it happened during the weekend. “How can she live with herself after being embarrassed that way?”

“Maybe she thinks Blake is going to come back to her.” That made me halt. Blake was my boyfriend, I found him making out with a blonde during the party, I confronted them only to be shoved into the pool. Blake told me the whole truth, explained the fact that he only went out with me to get a few pictures of my peaches.

The mere thought of that made fury coil in my chest.

He never loved me.

No one will.

I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, fought the bitter ache at the back of my throat and willed myself to walk forward, but they still kept sneering. “Loser.”

I swallowed hard and increased my pace, eager to get the hell out of here, but I suddenly bumped into a wall. Wait, there were no pillars or strong walls in the middle of the hallway. It was something—someone.

The fresh scent of shampoo mixed with a particular cologne hit my nose, knocking me out of my senses. I rubbed my forehead, stepping away quickly, “I'm…I'm so—”

“O.M.G! It's the new student!”

“The hockey transfer student? Dominic Lakes?”

“The six feets athletic fucking man of my dreams? Hell, he's the one!”

Excited giggles, squeals, words of approval boomed behind me, but I wasn't just stunned by the fact that'd bumped into a new student. Not just a new student, the most anticipated new student of all times, it was his face.

“Tell the fucking bitch to stop trying to flirt with him.”

“Someone should move her away.”

Their words melted like metal in a burning furnace, leaving me trapped in his own world. He was staring at me with the same eyes he did in my dreams, but the emotions in them were different.

There was no recognition in his eyes, no pain, no sadness.

His eyes were dead, like someone who was just fed up of seeing the same things happen. His icy grey eyes were dead. I sucked in a breath. It wasn't just a dream. It was something I couldn't explain.

“Why do I feel like we've met before?” I stared at the young man standing before me, his eyes locked on mine. He tucked some loose strands of my hair behind my ears, his lips stretching into a cocky smirk, “where? In your wet dreams?”