"What's wrong?"
"Rosie, talk to me." Harry says, grabbing my arm. I yank away, grabbing my jacket and running out the hotel room door. I look to the elevator, then to the stairs and decide those are fastest. I run as fast as I could down them, stumbling down a few every now and then, trying to see through the tears.
What the fuck did I just read and what the fuck am I doing?
I reach the lobby. I run for the doors, and hear my name being called from the arriving elevator. I don't turn back, just run. I look around, trying to spot a place to hide from Harry. I sprint across the street, still hearing my name being called.
Why am I running?
The call of 'Rosie!', and 'Rosie please!', were slowly drifting and becoming more faint as I walk on a busy sidewalk along a hustling beach that I've never seen before.
I walk to the side, and decide it's safe to sit down now, so I collapse onto a bench in the shade. My breathing was heavy, and I couldn't seem to stop it or the crying. The mix was horrible. I couldn't breathe, and the crying was making it worse.
It's all my fault. I shouldn't have EVER gone to Harry for help that night. I can't possibly tell him about this. I can't. If I do, he will probably never forgive me. And He will hate me. Harry thought he was being nice by helping me run away so I can escape my terrible life, but now it's just coming back. It's going to follow me everywhere I go, and I'm just dragging the people I love into it, making their lives just as worse. Harry doesn't deserve this.
I don't deserve a person like Harry.
The cops are after Harry, and my mom doesn't realize she is living with the real problem. This is too overwhelming.
Harry's POV
I stop screaming her name as I reach the bustling beach area. I call it out every now and then, hoping she will show.
I have no idea what happened to her. She took her phone, stared at it for 20 minutes as tears formed in her eyes. She looked at me with her glassy blue eyes, and yanked away from me, then bolted out the door. I saw her run out across the street in front of many cars, and sprint down the sidewalk. I couldn't keep up with the dodging of all the pedestrians walking and the obstacles like cars and other things.
I continue walking, observing every nook and cranny along the beach. I won't lose hope, I tell myself. I ask around, hoping someone would have seen her running or crying or something that will give me a small hint.
It was already noon, and I had canceled the appointments today for finding a home, so I could focus on Rosie. I was beginning to get stressed, sweating through my shirt and beads dropping from my hair dangling off my forehead.
"Rosie!" I whisper to myself as I approach, what looks to be, her. I run through the crowd, dodging people in my way to get to the brown haired girl on the bench.
"Rosie, baby."
She looks up, and I realize it's not her. I curse to myself, because I had all my hopes that that was her. I apologize, and move on.
"Who the fuck are you." I hear her say. What a bitch.
An hour later of walking around this unfamiliar place, I still can't find her. This was a horrible feeling, one I've never felt before. The way she looked at me before she bolted out the door... She looked terrified. Her blue eyes were dark, turning bloodshot. Was it me? Is she scared of... Me? I think of what I could've done to scare her, but I can't really think about anything I've done. I must've startled her somehow, it's all my fault.
