The Chronicles of Aida Sickler | H.S

fifteen.

Louis' hands eventually wrapped around my throat when I had given up and spit began to dribble from his mouth. "I told you not to come upstairs you fuck. You do what you want all the time and you never fucking listen to me."

The surprise I felt was soon replaced by pure exhilaration. If he wanted to fight, we could fight.

In his time of weakness, I rolled him over onto his back and got hold of the two hands so he could stop. We looked at each other in the eyes and I could see the pain laced in his irises. My hands almost wrapped around his neck as his hands wrapped around mine but I snapped back into reality and got up from the floor. "What the fuck are you on about." The burning in my throat didn't subside as he got up from the floor, glancing at the stain I made from dropping the cup. The room was still dark but the light coming in from the hall shone right on it. I didn't know what room it was until I saw the many pictures of his mother on the bedside table and the ledges of the windows. "Dude, I'm fucking sorry. I didn't know this was-"

He charged at me without question and pushed me against the dresser, a jewelry box falling to the ground and spilling many necklaces and bracelets his mom used to wear before she passed. "You bastard!" He raised his fist to punch me and for the first time I was genuinely scared. A single mention of his mother riled him up. I couldn't imagine what he wanted to do to me after seeing me carelessly spilling my drink on the floor in the room that was dedicated to her.

My hand reached up to stop him by gripping his wrist. I pulled my knee into his stomach which sent him tumbling back. Louis quickly gathered himself and pushed me to the floor again, this time punching me repeatedly. Each punch held a fueled passion behind it and the look in his eyes told me he wasn't going to stop. I had to make him.

It hurt me when I flipped him back over. It hurt me when my knuckles began to split after hitting him more times than I needed to. It hurt me seeing the blood gushing from his nose but I didn't fucking stop. I didn't stop because I was too far gone and no one knew how to stop me. When the guys came upstairs and when they saw as each fist pummeled into the sides of his face, they sobered up. Only one guy could pull me off and it was Dane.

I leaned against the wall and looked down at my fists that were stained with his blood. When the lights came on, everyone looked at me like I was a monster. The girl I had been making out with before didn't even look me in the eyes as I passed them all to go downstairs and outside. The blaring music suddenly stopped coming from the house and when I heard an ambulance truck nearby, I began walking in the other direction with my bloodied hands in my sweatshirt pocket. I knew I wasn't coming back from this. We weren't going to be friends after this. I wasn't going to be the same after this.

-

"And I never was." I spoke to her as she looked at me with her tired eyes. I was going to leave soon, I had to. I didn't want to still be here when she was asleep. "He never was."

"That's..." Aida began and rubbed her eyes with her tiny hands, "That's why he shows so much hostility towards you." Her eyes didn't open after she pulled them away from her face, and she licked her lips as her head rested on the side of her pillow. She didn't stare at me in disbelief or glare at me in horror like I thought she would. She was half asleep anyway, maybe she was just focused on getting to that state of blissful unconsciousness.

"Yeah."

"Harry?" She groaned and moved a little on the bed, her feet hitting my back slightly as she rested on her side with her hand under the pillow and the other under her cheek.

"Mhm?"

She sighed before speaking; turning her head into the pillow so I couldn't see her. "Can we cuddle?" Her voice was barely audible but I could hear her. "Until I fall asleep."

I stayed silent for a while and rested my chin on the melting ice bag on my knuckles. The last time I held someone in my arms was long ago. I didn't let anyone get close anymore but she was an exception. It would never mean anything. If it meant something to her, she'd stay awake to experience it. Maybe it was just her way of trying to see if I would do it or not. I sat there, contemplating my next move. The door was still open, she didn't lock it. I could leave without her even knowing. "Why?"

"Because it helps with my insomnia-" she seemed to have stopped herself and she got up from her position, opening her eyes slowly before backing away into the corner. I frowned at the sight of her distancing herself away from me. "Never mind, it was dumb of me to ask." She looked down at her feet and wiggled them before looking back up at me.

She was beautiful. Her hair suited her complexion well, hazel eyes accompanied by dark lashes and a voice so velvety and smooth- but I couldn't. I couldn't let her in and poison her innocence with my toxic, unhealthy life. I've already gotten her hooked on smoking weed with me and it's fucked up her sleeping schedule. This was a clear sign what my presence and company did to others.

"Are you okay?" She noticed my silence and I nodded.

"I should get going." And with that, I placed the ice bag she made for me on the edge of her dresser and got up from her bed, the overwhelming smell of her clinging to my jacket and burrowing itself into my mind; involuntarily making me get used to it. I jogged down the steps and heard her coming after me but I didn't turn around. Pushing her away is the best thing for both of us at the moment. I tried to convince myself as I left her home, closing the door behind me to see a confused girl in the glass. She furrowed her eyebrows at me as I fumbled down her porch steps. "I'm sorry." I muttered before walking in the opposite direction I came; not knowing where my next destination would be.