Chapter Twenty - "Side Effects"

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Chloe

 

Have you ever missed somebody so much that it physically hurt to think about them?

I couldn’t sleep, but this could have been for a lack of trying. I didn’t want to. So, I sat up in bed, watching the blank wall across from me. I hadn’t moved from that spot in over ten hours.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said.

I’d felt a sudden fear clutch at my chest.

“Sarah’s going to get you out, don’t worry. She’s been working really late with James so I think they’ve got everything covered. You’ll be out in no time, don’t worry. Just—” I said, but he interjected.

“I mean, you and me. I can’t be with you anymore. You can’t come and see me, and we can’t be us anymore. It’s too hard, and you should probably focus on you right now.”

My heart was racing, and I suddenly felt like a chilling skin-biting wind was blowing.

“You were right. All good things come to an end; this is ours. Please don’t visit or call or . . . write. I’m sorry. Don’t wait for me. We were great, but there’s somebody better out there for you.”

‘What?’ I wanted to say.

I wasn’t sure what was happening. I’m usually very fast in grasping points, but all of a sudden, it was cold, I could hear my heart in my ears, and my brain was frozen.

“Take care of yourself, okay? You and Sarah, you could have something great. Hold on to that. And . . . I do love you; more than you could ever know. Goodbye, Chloe.”

 

He got up and left, disappearing behind that grey door.

Only then did I say, “What?” But it was too late. Too late to stop him, and too late to stop the sudden tightening in my chest.

The guard walked over, “Miss, is there a problem?”

How much time had passed?

Yes, I wanted to say, yes, there’s a problem; I can’t seem to wake up.

I continued to replay it in my mind, until I realized that the room was suddenly brighter, and my eyes were in pain.

There was a knock on my door, “Chloe, you up?” Sarah asked through the door.

Morning.

I slid out of the bed, feeling woozy for a minute, and wobbled over to the door.

“Hi,” I said, pulling open the door.

Her eyes widened, “Are you okay?”

Was it that obvious?

“Yeah, why?”

“You look terrible,” she said, “Did you get any sleep?”

“Yeah,” I murmured.

She eyed me warily, “Chloe—”

I interjected, “I’m still a little tired. Is it okay if I go back to sleep?”

“Sure. I’ll leave your breakfast on the table, okay?”

I nodded, and shut the door, before she could say anything else.

On The Run: Part TwoWhere stories live. Discover now