Caught

Chapter Forty-Seven

It's funny how life is really - we're all just here to live for as long as we can, but we all know we're gonna die. We just don't know when.

The tears continued to fall as I ran my fingers on his face. The same one that wore that warm smile I saw each day in the morning as I walked into school. The same one that I kissed not so long ago. His black hair was still a mess and his skin was growing paler by the minute. I couldn't see his bright green eyes anymore, for they were behind the eyelids that'll never open again.

He looked exactly like the boy in my vision.

Probably because, now I knew, he was the one in my vision.

"Cole, I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

My hand traced his body, wishing he was still alive. There was so much more we could've done together, so much more he could've done.

That's when I felt it, in his jacket pocket. I pulled it out slowly, not exactly sure what it was. I found a simple folded piece of paper, now caked in blood. I unfolded it, finding a beautiful drawing of a red rose. Beside it, an unfinished poem, unreadable because of the amount of blood soaked into it. I could make out a few words: thorns, delicate, beautiful, but that was it.

"Miss, please get off the victim," I heard a different, gruff voice say. I didn't respond. Next thing I knew, two officers were grabbing me by the arms, lifting me up and placed me a good distance away from Cole.

My gaze was still focused there, at the center of the dance floor. One of the police officers were speaking with Spencer, probably asking a few questions on what happened tonight.

This is my fault. This was all my fault. I could've stopped them. Why didn't I?

I finally managed to move my feet. I decided to walk outside. I needed air, fresh air. It felt like the walls were caving in in here. I headed out the door, where stretchers continued to make their way in and out of the room.

Outside, there were dozens of vehicles - ambulances, cop cars, news vans. Quite a few people were huddled around, wondering what was going on at what was supposed to be a school dance. News reporters were there too, waiting for someone to interview.

I think they found their someone.

"Miss." One of the reporters approached me once I walked out of the building. "Miss, may I have a word?"

"I'd rather not," I said, pushing passed them. I continued walking, not exactly knowing where I was going to go - I just needed to get away.

At the end of the sidewalk, I stopped and looked around. I looked right, knowing that home was that way. I could lock myself in my room for the next month or so. I then looked left, wondering if I could lose myself in the... forest.

"Lauren," I heard a familiar voice call from behind. I turned around, finding Aidan running toward me. His shoulder was still bleeding badly, but it didn't seem to bother him. He slowed down. "Are you - no wait, of course you're not okay. But where are you going, you need to get to the hospital or something, your forehead is still bleeding." He winced and grabbed onto his arm.

"I'm going to heal, don't worry. You on the other hand actually should go to the hospital. That's going to get infected." At the same time, my hand brushed over my small cut. It actually did continue to bleed pretty quickly, but that wasn't bothering me. It was that the blood was the same shade of red as the roses on my wrists.

"Lauren, I know you're not okay," Aidan said. "I know you either need space or have to let it all out. Now go on, tell me what's on your mind."

"This was all my fault," I said without hesitation. Tears continued to flow down my cheeks. "I should have never got Cole involved with the Institute. I should've told someone of my vision of a dead Cole and-"

"Woah, woah, whoa." Aidan stopped me. "When did you have this vision?"

I gulped. "A while ago. First day of school, I think."

"Are you serious, Lauren?" He asked. "You didn't tell anyone?"

I shook my head. "And I'm so stupid, there were so many hints leading up to tonight. It's like the world was trying to warn me and tell me to choose the right decision but I screwed up anyway."

"I don't understand, Lauren. What the hell are you saying?" Aidan winced in pain again, I could tell he was trying not to cry or scream in pain - not in front of me, at least.

"I made them shoot Cole. I made them shoot you. I sent a bullet flying towards my head," I rambled. "This is my fault, don't you understand?"

"No, I don't. I -"

"Aidan, I'm a monster. I just hurt people," I told him. "Aidan, I don't belong here. I don't. I'm just gonna end up hurting-" I couldn't finish the sentence.

Aidan walked closer to me. "Lauren, you don't-"

"I belong there, Aidan. I tried to escape but I belong there." My voice was barely a whisper.

"No you don't, Lauren."

His face was so close. His lips were so close. He was leaning closer, and so was I.

But no, I shoved him away, knowing I managed to touch where it hurt him the most. He stepped back, wincing in pain once again. I could see the tears he was trying to hold back.

"No, Aidan, don't," I plead. "I don't want to hurt you." I don't want to get hurt by you. "Aidan, just leave me alone. You'd be better off without me."

I broke into a run, not towards home but towards the forest. The Institute. I was able to hear Aidan's footfalls trailing behind me as he burst into a run as well. But I knew I was faster than him, I knew he couldn't keep up.

"Lauren, stop. This is exactly what they want," I heard Aidan call from behind. I ignored him.

I approached the edge of the forest, ready to step inside. It's for the best. It's for the best.

I turned around, seeing Aidan only a few meters behind me. "Lauren, stop," He managed to say.

"Stop following me," I said, my lips quivering. "Go home. Go to the hospital. Don't worry about me, you don't need me."

I started running into the deep, dark woods, ignoring Aidan's pleads of staying. But I knew I couldn't, I just couldn't. I knew the Institute turned me into something horrible, something I didn't want to be. I don't want the people I care about facing that version of me.

"I still love you, Lauren."

I didn't turn around. I didn't respond. I just continued running.

And running.

And running.

Until I couldn't run anymore.