Gaze - [h.s.]

❖ Chapter 8 ❖

It's been 10 minutes since Harry has said what he said, about someone killing a member of his family. I couldn't find the words to say, so I just kept quiet. He eventually left, and I thought I had time to myself until he walked through the door once again with a new lightbulb. What scares me the most is that, even though it's pitch dark in here, his eyes are easily seen by their glowing. I had nightmares about pitch blackness and glowing eyes when I was a child, and they were always the worst dreams. I often went to my mother's room when I had those dreams. Now it's like I'm living my worst nightmare.

Harry reaches up, and unscrews the shattered lightbulb, the shards cracking under his feet as he moves. He drops the broken bulb, and I jump.

"I know how much you don't like the dark, Candy." He drags out my nickname, and I have the urge to cry again. It's funny how when I had the tape over my mouth, I had everything to say. Now, I have nothing. He screws in the new bulb, and light fills the room. I immediately notice his arms, and how they're full of tattoos. I try not to think about the small cross on his hand and try to think about how to get out of here.

"Did your parents ever tell you that staring is impolite?" He says with a slight smirk as he walks toward me again.

"I wasn't staring." Yes I was. I so was.

"But you were, Candy."

"Please don't call me that," I manage to say. It's very quiet, but I know that he heard it. He snickers lightly, and a shiver runs down my spine. Surely, my family is already out looking for me. They have to be.

"Why not?" He simply asks. I'm not sure if I want to kick him in the throat or make out with him. His face is prettier than his personality.

"Thanks for that, but I don't think you know a thing about my personality." He crosses his arms over his chest and hovers over me. I'm starting to get angry. Like, really pissed off. His personality? He hit on me at a random house party, offered me a drink, and drugged me, only to drag me here and basically tell me he's going to kill me because of something my family's gang did to him. So, in my opinion, his personality is pretty shit so far.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" He says with a husky voice.

"Oh my god, can you please stay out of my own personal thoughts for once? You seem to have a lack of privacy, and it's quite literally pissing me off." I snap. After the stage of fear and sadness, comes to anger and impatience, which is what I'm feeling. This would be so much easier if I just knew my damn power. I could use it to get out of here.

"It's not something I can help, Candyce, and as far as I'm concerned, you should shut your mouth. I could easily slit your throat and be done with it." He snaps back, and I only grow more angry. I need to punch something or I might explode. But no, God forbid I have my hands free. I might try to hop over to him, in my six inch heels, tied together by rope, and strangle him with my bare hands, then hop out of the house without being caught. Come on.

He chuckles lightly, and then it turns into a very loud laugh. He has to bend over and clutch his stomach because he's laughing so hard. Well, alright then.

"That's the funniest image I've ever thought of," He says, trying to catch his breath. "A small girl hoping around like a rabbit in high heels and tight clothes." He laughs harder, and I swear I have steam coming out of my ears and nose.

"If you're so eager to slit my throat and get your revenge, then do it." I say as confident as I can, not letting up on our eye contact. "I'm done."

His face falls for a second. "What?"

I'm so tired, and hungry, and mentally drained. I really don't want to do this anymore. I probably wasn't very important to my family anyway, but it was a good life while it lasted. I suppose I won't ever know what my power is. I'll never know what it's like to have kids of my own or live in peace.

"No." He says immediately after my thoughts. "I won't allow that to happen." He walks out of the small cement room, and slams the door. I jump slightly but my eyes hurt. They burn from the tears, the hangover, and the lack of sleep. Sure, I was passed out for a while, but it feels like I haven't slept in weeks.

My head starts to droop, as well as my eyelids, and I allow them to. It's not the most comfortable position to sleep in, but I don't have any other choice. As I'm falling asleep, I hear voices.

"I can't do it, Liam," Harry starts. "I can't kill her." 

I'm wide awake again. 

"What?" An unknown voice says, I'm assuming it's Liam. "Why not?"

"No one has ever shown mercy like that to me," Harry says in a low voice.

"Mercy? Really? Mercy is what's stopping you? For fuck's sake, Harry." Liam growls. "Her father is the reason why your mum is dead." There's a short pause. 

"I read her, Liam." He mutters. "Like a fucking book." 

I hear Liam's unfamiliar voice mutter a 'whatever' and foot steps sounding like they're going up a flight of stairs. But, I only hear one pair of feet. I hear a slump against a wall, and then someone sliding down onto the floor. My best guess is that it's Harry, trying to figure out what to do. I just want to be home, with my family, and Kira. If killing me is what it takes to feel that peace again, I'd gladly let Harry or anyone pierce a dagger through my chest. Sure, it would be painful. But not as painful as being bitten by the loneliness that is this perfect square-shaped cement room. 

A pain shoots through my back from sitting in this same position too long and I whimper quietly, trying to stretch myself out or get some sort of movement to soothe the small but uncomfortable pain. My stomach growls loudly in the dead silence. My first initial reaction isn't my brightest moment. 

"Shut up," I mutter to my abdomen. Man, I'm losing it. 

I try to re-position myself, but it's unsuccessful. I try to distract myself by thinking about all of this. 

First of all, why me? Out of my whole family's gang, why did I have to be the chosen one? It could've been my father's old servants who fled the country after supposedly killing Harry's mother, and anyone who didn't pay for their shipments. My mother always talks about how he hated being cruel, but that it was the only way to keep the gang up and running. Now, my brother has a chance at being in charge of such a deadly group of people. I hope he converts this gang to doing good, instead of doing things that give my family a bad name. 

During high school, I couldn't talk to anyone besides Kira or make new friends because everyone was terrified of me. I guess being terrified of does have as many advantages as it has its cons. 

Oh my God, my feet are killing me. My whole body is killing me. At this point, I would be more content on the floor. 

If these people are going to kill me, they may as well make my last few days at least a little more comfortable. If I could just get a change of clothes, like sweatpants, and these shoes off, I would probably be slightly more relaxed and less bitchy. I groan in frustration. I'm honestly over this whole thing. I need some coffee. 

I lean my head to the side of the chair and close my eyes. I'm exhausted. I want to cry again, but I don't have the energy. I know that my family must be looking for me. If I play my cards right, they might let me go, so I can cuddle up in my king sized bed, and fall asleep for the next thirty years. Just the thought of a bed sounds so pleasant. I doze slightly. I know that I won't be able to keep myself awake, so I let my lids droop and I'm drifted off into a very uncomfortable sleep. 

A/N: SOOOO I know this chapter is very short but I just wanted to get a chapter up hahah. Sorry I've been so inactive. I finished junior year a few weeks ago, so I'm still kind of getting used to all the time I have. More chapters soon, I promise :) vote & comment!