Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 27.

n. sorry it took me so long to update. i've been dealing with some personal issues. ya'll probably need refreshers so here's some points to remember:

- the texter told her that her first floor neighbor has to do with Finn (Harry's teammate that was wearing Harry's jersey jacket) getting stabbed

- the texter knows personal details and what shes doing all the time and told her to lie to harry, and gave her an excuse, but she hasn't used it and the texter threatened her

- tara refuses to tell anyone because she doesnt know if this could be real (sort of in denial of it all) but shes still nervous. she's been threaten that if she tells, she'll regret it

It took me a while to figure it out.

Part of the reason why I didn't tell Harry or anyone for that matter was because I needed to find out if these threats were legitimate. I didn't know whether I had to take that chance to find out or not, but the pressure and the undeniable anxiety inside of me was causing all types of havoc.

Harry doesn't speak with me. I think he's been giving me space to think out what I'll say the next time he asks me something about my recent behavior. That or he's giving me signs that he's going to break up with me.

The latter is so hurtful that I put myself in the position of denial. I've been oblivious to almost everything and almost blinded by my emotions. That's the problem with feelings.

I rush up the stairs to my apartment. With a goal, finally. My eyes are wide and my heart is beating in my chest so quickly. I have never been more nervous to get home. Ever. In my life. The gloomy day outside, setting a dim tone inside the apartment, does not help my persistence. It preludes fear more than it prolongs my adrenaline.

Inside, my widened eyes search the rooms. My fingers dip between the pedals of flowers and plants my mom has around the living room, underneath the rug as I tug harshly on the thick fabric, looking between it and the wooden floorboards, and nearly ripping apart any crevice in the apartment.

By the time I get to my room, there's nothing. Breathless and frenzied, my desperate hands find strands of my hair. I think I'm going crazy. I look around to see the mess I've made, tossing books, papers, clothes, sheets and frames everywhere. My curtains pulled aside to see if anything was between them.

To see if those cameras my strange first floor neighbor bought were anywhere where they shouldn't be -- here.

It was in the letters. Those letters that we were getting in our mail along with our own. Bills for cameras and all these extravagant tools. If someone's watching, it has to be with those cameras. But after ripping apart my apartment looking for them, I find nothing. My face feels hot and my neck stiff. I'm losing my absolute shit.

My phone rings and I'm startled. I fish for it feverishly and look down at the ID. It's Charlie. I hesitate on answering because I'm in no mood to deal with anyone, especially someone as talkative and loud as Charlie.

"Hello," I whisper, bringing my fingernails into my mouth. I bite and gaze around my torn up bedroom. It looks like someone broke in.

"Tara! Man..what the hell is going on? You don't answer my texts or my calls...you just beat up Keth in the middle of the campus and go MIA? What the hell is up with you?" Charlie is pissed, snapping all his words at me through exasperated disbelief.

Lethargically, I slump down onto my bed, sitting up to gaze at my dark wood floors. "I'm fine. Just moody," I mutter dryly, distractedly. My fingers at my lips muffle my words just a bit.