“I dream of leaving and never looking back. But it’s impossible.”

“Then take my hand and we’ll run together.”

Rosalie Brookes is running. She’s always running, that’s all she does. She’s lost, running from her deepest and darkest nightmares. The creature within her, its claws tight in her heart, has made her kill everyone she loves. Since watching her mother being murdered through her five year old eyes she’s had a secret. But she’s about to reveal her secret for the first time. To the man that saved her the night she was running.

Harry’s lost. He’s always lost. He’s lost everyone and needs to care for someone to make him complete. His twisted past of drinking and drugs is forgotten about. He’s escaped his problems and now wants to help Rosalie do the same.

Someone will bring their messed up worlds together. They have a lot more in common than they think. And that may save their lives one day.


This is the second version of this story I've made so enjoy!


3. The Flat

I tossed and turned all night, my dark, dingy flat reminding me of a prison cell. Graffiti covered all four walls, pieces of broken glass still lying on the floor just like when I first found this place. I rolled over onto my back on my lumpy mattress lying on the ground, staring up into the darkness surrounding me. I sighed heavily, letting the tears silently escape. I squeezed my eyes shut, the scratchy blanket covering my body itching my skin irritably. I pulled it off of my body, jumping off the uncomfortable mattress.

I paced up and down the dimly lit room, the only brightness being the dusky light from a lamppost down the street. I scratched my upper arms, feeling my bruises and broken ribs that had been hurt tonight quickly heal inside of me. My mind spun with all the different thoughts in my head. But the main topic was Harry. I pressed my hands into either side of my head, trying to squeeze all of these thoughts and feelings out of me like an orange. But they wouldn’t go away. I screamed out, my voice probably cutting through the thin walls keeping me from the outside world. Even though I shouldn’t be living here in this abandoned flat, this has been the longest time I’ve ever stayed in one place since my parents’ death.

The thought brought pained tears to my eyes.  I rubbed my upper arms quickly, the room cold and lonely. I missed them so much. I was so young, so innocent. I watched my mother being murdered, her blood covering my bedroom carpet. I swore from that day on that I’d get my revenge, I’d kill the man that did this to her. But it was so much more complicated than that.

All these memories, these thoughts brought me back to the other night, holding the man I loved in my arms as he died. We were only being who we were and they punished us for it. Goosebumps rose on my skin as I remembered the hurt look in ‘his’ eyes as I took ‘his’ life. I hate myself. I really do. I ran my hand through my tangled hair, sobbing quietly to myself. I wanted to be held just like I was when I was a child. My whole body grew numb as I pictured my mother’s gorgeous face. I’d probably made up most of her features in my head as my last memory of her was when I was 5. But I would always remember her dark hair that always used to tickle my ear when I would cuddle up to her.

I collapsed back down onto the mattress, the springs groaning in pain as I put my weight on them. I laid back, cradling my hand behind my head as I stretched out on the mattress. The strong smell of damp flew up my nose. I scrunched my nose up and rolled onto my side, burying my face into the hard pillow under my head. But it didn’t mask the smell. I curled up into a ball on my side, a picture of Harry flashing in my mind. I didn’t believe that I could watch my boyfriend die in my arms then fall in love with another man an hour later. I felt selfish, cruel, like I had been cheating on ‘him’. I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing my boyfriend’s last words before he died.

“Help me, Rosie.”

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled into my pillow, sobbing quietly, but despite the sorrow weighing my heart down a picture of Harry flashed in my head again, calming me almost straight away. I could still feel his breath on my lips, his face nuzzling into my neck. I wrapped my arms tight around myself, imagining it as Harry holding me, supporting me, loving me. I wanted to see him again, to feel his arms around me, but I didn’t even know where he lived. When I ran out of his place, I just trailed along the streets until I saw a familiar building or road. And I knew the urge wouldn’t let me be near him either. It would make me do the same that I’ve done before, tonight even just before I crashed into Harry. I couldn’t let him grow feelings for me. I would hurt him.

I wanted to die. But someone I trusted, someone close to me and my family when I was younger stopped me from ever feeling that, ever experiencing death. I wanted to know if Heaven really existed. But I’m more likely to go to hell after what I’ve done. I deserve it after all. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my body to fall into a deep sleep, forcing my mind to relax for a few hours. But I never got that.

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