Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Forty-One: And The Fight Continues

Chapter Forty-One: And The Fight Continues."

"SO WHAT you're saying is that I. . . lied about everything?" I ask with raised eyebrows, taking my hands off his shoulders, but he keeps his grip firm on my waist.

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion, but then his eyes widen and his hands squeeze me tighter. "What? No! No, that's not what I am saying at all. What I am trying to tell you is that whatever you scared the hell out of Lucy with, that sounds like it was a hallucination."

"What did I scare Lucy with?"

Now he smiles, remembering what his sister told him. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's an exaggeration, since that's Lucy's expertise: over exaggerating. "I must say, I'm both scared and amazed at your lack of sleep. You are quite a show to watch and engage in conversation with."

"Did I talk to you?" I question cautiously yet curiously. I'm sure I was probably a great person to be around. I'm a fun yet mean drunk, what's there to say when I'm a cranky hallucinator?

"That you did, babe." He says, now chuckling.

I start to panic a little bit. I could have said anything and everything; I could have said things I'll regret hearing, I could have done something I'd regret later. For all I know, my hallucinations can go to extreme measures when I'm put under stress; enough to the point where I still sleepwalk if it's bad enough and going on longer than usual. In this case, I might have, and that scares me. I don't have good history with sleepwalking, and the fact that people were in the same place as I was, makes it worse. If I was alone, it'd be different, but I could have injured someone again like I had with Emily.

"Am I going to need to apologize to anyone?" I ask softly.

"No, not really. Maybe you could say sorry to Luce for scaring her, but other than that it wasn't all that bad, just entertaining."

"Entertaining?"

"Well, for starters, you thought we were in the jungle and desert for whatever reason. Adding onto that, you were claiming we all were bananas. Literally. You thought we were bananas and that Lucy was a rodeo cop and you told her that he was turning brown. That being said, you charged at him, trying to eat him. Oh, but my favourite part would probably be you hating being a woman and that you wanted to try having a dick. But sunshine, if you wanted to try you could have just asked."

It's impossible for me to be able to hide my blush. My face is scorching hot, and not because I just threw hot coffee all over myself. I should have slept. I should have slept even if there was a chance I would never wake up again. This is honestly pure embarrassment; Tyler and his family have seen my embarrassments, even my most embarrassing embarrassments, but this time I don't understand why it feels so. . . different.

Could it be because we're no longer best friends, but lovers instead?

No, that couldn't change anything. If we're being technical, then we've been lovers ever since we started sleeping in the same bed, and we were thirteen then.

"Oh, God." I groan, and drop my head on his shoulder, somehow no longer angry at him, even though I should feel everything but affectionate right now.

I can always yell at him for hurting me later, but all I can focus on right now is that he's here, I'm in his arms, and there's a possibility that I won't be sleeping in my bed alone tonight.

Then again, I haven't even laid in my bed and slept since I woke up.

"We have a problem." I finally say through the minute of silence.

His chest heaves heavily. "I know."

"No, I don't mean about my dad. Or us, even. I mean me."

"You?" He asks, directing my face to meet his eyes. "Morgan, there's nothing wrong with you–"