𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 | 𝐠. 𝐛𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞

| 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐈 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 |

| 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 |
𝐈 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬. She could feel the heat surrounding her, even if she wasn't able to see the flames. The soft light coming from the gap between the door an the floor showed her what she was most afraid to admit: they knew she was in here, yet nobody cared enough to come and save her.

She walked around the empty space. It didn't take her much to recognize her old room from London, even if there was nothing left from her there, the walls still hold all of those years of torment within them.

The heat became more unbearable by the second. She felt she was dying, correction, she knew she was dying. She took deep breaths, running towards the door and hitting it strongly with her fist.

"Samantha!" she yelled, the tears threatening to scape her eyes "Sam please." she croaked out, her throat feeling sore.

"No one's coming, you know?" she turned around quickly, pressing her back against the door. Suddenly everything around her disappeared, another room appearing in front of her, a place that sent a shiver down her spine. Everything was the same, the supplies closet, the desk in one corner. Everything was in the same place, just like the last time she had been here. "In the end, it will always be you and I." he said, that signature smile of him making it's way to his face, while he took a step forward.

Adelaine shaked her head, closing her eyes shut. "No, no, no, no. You're not here, you're not real." she whispered softly, not daring to look at him. It took him one more long step to reach her, one of his big hands grabbing her chin violently. She panted at the sudden touch, feeling the salt of her tears in her trembling lips.

"I may not be real," he came closer, his mouth touching the lobe of her ear "But you now that I am here. No matter where you go, I'll always be there."

She gasped for air, sitting quickly over the matress of her bed at Avonlea. She opened her eyes widely, staring at the window in front of her.

I'm here, I'm safe.

She repeated those words in her mind, her hand coming in contact with her chest, feeling the quick pulse of her heartbeat next to her skin. She breathed heavily, trying to calm herself down, but it was impossible. She could still feel his voice, his hot breath next to her skin. She could feel him everywhere.

She lied down in bed, staring at the white ceiling of her room, while she swallowed the lump that was formed in her throat. She stayed there for the rest of the night, repeating the same words in her head and hoping that, at some point of the night, she would start believing them

I'm here, I'm safe.