Why was he being so nice? Did he feel guilt for putting me through all they did? He’d sure as hell turned a blind eye for two days.
“Let me grab you a blanket, my child,” he said as he stood. The moment the door closed behind him, I knew this was my only chance. Trying not to let panic squeeze at my chest, I went to the first window, throwing the small statuette he had there off to the side and praying it opened. Apparently, some god, somewhere, was listening. It opened with a creak of protest, and I only slammed my hand against the screen a few times before it fell into the bushes below. Thank fuck his office was on the ground floor, or this would have gone very differently.
The moment my feet hit the grass, I started to run. Every turn a new and increasingly more terrifying hallucination was there to torment me, and I felt as if this was the moment my mind broke for good. But there was no way I’d skip over an opportunity like this, even if it meant running until I was eighteen and out of my grandmother’s clutches.
The trip home was quick since the church was only a few blocks away, and I had my backpack on in seconds. If I lingered, my moment of freedom would be ripped away as ruthlessly as Gran possibly could. Luckily, I had made a grab bag months ago, the tension between my grandmother and me only rising as my mental state declined. I was leaving everything else behind except my emergency stash of cash I’d collected over the last few years. I was waiting for eighteen, but it seemed the church and my grandmother changed my plans.
The lady at the bus depot didn’t ask questions as I bought my ticket, I just hoped I could hop buses before she got my description.
The bus smelled like sweat and gasoline as I made my way down the small aisle to an empty seat, ignoring the looks as I passed the other passengers. It felt like everyone was always watching me, but my therapist had always reassured me that wasn’t true. Yet when I glanced up, I saw more than one gaze locked on me. Their attention made me curl in on myself, hating the way it felt to be watched. I was always the reject, the freak and knew that I was covered in grime and likely smelled terrible.
Sliding into the window seat I hunched in on myself, angling my head to look out the window and not at them. The bus started moving, and I went into that bored happy place where the roar of the bus lulled me into a quiet trance.
Even in the reflection I looked like a mess. My blonde hair was limp and oily, my green eyes dull and lined in dark circles. I needed sleep, food, and about ten fucking showers.
“Shit,” I cursed as a shadowed face appeared in the window, making me jump. I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered that same mantra I always did in my head, begging it to disappear.
You’re not real.
It’s just a hallucination.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was gone. The only thing I could see was the traffic in the next lane and buildings passing by.
ChapterOne
Harlow
Three Years Later
Friday Night
The Streets of Ridgefield
My heart raced as I bolted through the streets of Ridgefield. At every turn I have to shove through a crowd of people spilling out of the bars and into the night. I’d chosen the busiest part of the city so I’d be able to escape through the crowd if I needed to.
“Stop!” The cop behind me was relentless. All this for a fucking sandwich I couldn’t even eat. I ditched it three blocks back, and I never expected the cops around here to have the endurance to keep this up.
Shadows ran beside me, urging me on, casting a creepy glow to the alley I turned into. Each slap of my sneakers against the pavement echoed in the quiet, giving me away with every inch I put between me and my pursuer.
“This way, little human,” Monty called out. His rasping voice echoed in my head, sending that familiar icy tingle down my spine. The voice slithered inside my veins, through every part of my body, consuming me completely.
Despite the constant mindfuck that Monty was, I regained my composure and turned the corner, biting back a scream as a black mass formed. It resembled a person in stature, but no defining features to make sense of. Glowing white eyes contrasted the darkness of the shadows he was made of. They spilled off him like rushing water, filling the ground and creeping closer to me, warding me away.
“Okay, not that fucking way,” I bit out, turning and heading in the opposite direction again.
“In here.” This time the voice came from a basement, the broken window just wide enough I could slip through. The sirens getting closer were all the encouragement I needed. The broken glass cut through my favorite hoodie, and I let out a soft whimper as I dropped down. I didn’t even have time to pick myself up off the floor before a group of cops came running down the alley. Since I was still visible, I rolled closer to the wall, squeezing myself against it and out of sight.
My heart pounded in my chest as the flashlight beams spilled through the open window. The shop owner had to have told them I stole money or something for this sort of response.
“She’s not here. Probably halfway through the city by now,” the cop told his partner as the beam of light fell away, and I let out a relieved sigh.
“I bet you’re proud of yourself.” The sound of Gran’s voice had me freezing. I haven’t seen that monster of a woman in three years. In fact, I no longer even lived in the same state. Unfortunately, living in shelters and hostels to survive meant I didn’t get access to proper medication. Hence the frequent and terrifying hallucinations. At least, despite her voice, she wasn’t actually here.
“Go away, you’re not real,” I ground out through clenched teeth, pushing away from the wall and heading across the room. “Monty, is it safe to leave?”
No response.
Again, I was alone with the shadows that plagued me.