"Please stop," he pleased, putting his hands out in front of him, stopping me from going any further. I halted in my steps, my eyes trained at the bag at his feet.
"You didn't bring me what I wanted," I said my voice coming out small and tired. I was tired as hell, weary with the burden of long-closed eyes; I could have easily pulled off being a walking zombie, dead inside but subconsciously awake. It was almost dawn, I could tell, the light seeping through the door getting brighter every passing second.
"Please... give me another chance," his voice sounded hopeful, a beam of light in the dimness of the room.
I didn't like it.
The word.
Hope.
It no longer existed within me.
"Look, I don't have much time and you're already making this hard for me," my voice rose but it was emotionless this time.
"But..."
"Shut up! I don't care!" I screamed letting out all the frustration pent up inside me. "You think I love doing this? Just for fun? Do you think I really have an option?" I looked him straight in the eyes. They held fear and another emotion I couldn't decipher.
I wondered what I looked like. A 17-year-old brunette wearing the same black shirt and jeans from days ago. Her hair falling out from her loose braid, face strained with an expression she didn't know. She never wanted to know. She no longer cared.
"I'm sorry."
A loud voice filled the silence as I released my fingers off the trigger.
YOU ARE READING
Two Worlds
Teen FictionClaire Anderson is not your typical 17 year old. She has an unforgettable past and an unpredictable future. What happens when someone named Alex Miller threatens to change her life? Things can't help but take a new turn. What happens when their wo...
