Troubled [h.s.]

43

Its around ten thirty when I drop the crappy Toyota at the rental place. I am so glad we payed for this car before hand. If we hadn't, I would have to pay this in loans and I am not sure if we would have money left to buy food.

I grab my suitcase and throw my LongChamp bag across my shoulder as I walk out to the crisp Seattle air. Its much more hotter here then New York and the air is softer here. I like Seattle. I told Harry I wanted to stay in NYC but coming back makes me wanna stay.

A pity for myself settles in my chest as I start walking down the street. I haven't showered in about 49 hours and spent quiet a lot of that time driving. I have bags under my eyes, I can't feel my feet or legs, I am tired, sweaty and heartbroken. All I wanna do is cuddle beside Harry after a cold and refreshing shower and fall asleep in his smell, on his chest.

I feel like something is missing in everything I am doing. I want his validation and approval, his reaction and presence beside me. We have been together give or take 4 months and I am so attached. This was what I was fearing all along.

I am not an ordinary girl from the suburbs, living in a two floored house, going to school and falling in love with the captain of the football team then having commitment issues.

My parents died when I was so young and I remember wishing I had died because I didn't want to live this life. I remember a memory, just a part of it. I am in this adoption house with that guy who extinguished his cigars under my arm and he would lock me up in the basement. The basement was old and it had this glass five inch by ten inch window for gathering hoses or whatever. It would open slightly and I would look at the sky. I remember wishing that I had died and my mommy lived so she would look after Rose and I wouldn't have to experience what I was experiencing.

The American police system is fucked up. The guy who tried to rape me, the guy who burned me is in their house having a beer but I am being searched, on the no fly list and can be arrested if found. All I did is escape those people. But they pay taxes so I am the criminal.

Like I said, I would hitch hike, get drunk and beg for money at like eleven. Which normal people does that? I killed people. I am a murderer. I killed my best friend, my ex. I killed Liam. I killed Max's guys. I was too empathic to kill him. I didn't want to create a possibility of leaving those kids orphans. Maybe he will finally grow the balls of going after me and kill me. Rose is growing up, I have to teach her some of my skills. I don't have Harry now, I don't really care of leaving anyone behind. I survived Rose can too. She never went through what I did. Her parents were nicer then mine, I took care of her when she was not in a foster home and she never ran away.

She never got drunk or had sex with a guy for more drinks or food. I went through that. I started smoking at twelve and quiet around fifteen. I probably started again because I feel like going and buying another pack right now. I am in Seattle, why not? I know this place like the inside of my palm.

I change my route from to Jack's to cigarettes and its a quick stop. Meanwhile, I go back to reminiscing.

I remember a night with Liam. We were walking down this exact street to get cigarettes. He was holding my waist, and I had my arm wrapped around him. He was talking about fishing and I was laughing at him. It was happy. Now he is gone. He had gone mad and took Zayn down.

I make a right into an alley and try to remember how this went. Its been awhile since I was here. I whistle, remembering the tune for American Spirit. Even though its almost eleven at night and they are barely opening the store a familiar whistle is shouted back. It means they have it but I have to pay. I put the money on the railings like we used to do and someone snatches it. Moments later, a pack falls from the sky and I catch it.