I'm having a nervous breakdown. I think. I don't know. I looked online last night after taking a shower if you can be so scared that you suffer a mental break, but all I got was stuff about nervous breakdowns. It at least, would explain why I'm having trouble thinking straight and the queasiness in my stomach.
Also, one point was that when you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you get paranoid. This explains so much about what's been going on with me lately. I mean, it makes sense if you think about it. I know it happened like three months ago, but going into that house across the street must have been the stressor that started this whole thing. I got scared that night and it made me so stressed out that I started hallucinating seeing that shadow everywhere. Which also means that Carson very likely hasn't been doing anything weird and has instead been subjected to my paranoia.
God, I feel so stupid.
I read up on ways to destress and pull yourself out of these things and so far, today I'm feeling great. I took a bath this morning and then played outside with Zach for a while. Mom even had lunch with us before she had to go to work. All in all, I think everything is finally going to go back to being normal for me.
The sun is starting to set when Mom comes into the living room. "Hey, Mo, I'm going to take Zach to Tanner's for a sleepover."
I look away from the TV and have to do a double take. "You're awfully dressed up for dropping him off at a friend's."
She laughs, her fingers going to her hair before she remembers that she's done it up nicely. Instead, her fingers flutter against her collar bones. "Actually, I have plans with a gentleman after dropping Zach off. Dinner plans."
"Ooh, a date is it?"
"It is." She smiles.
I raise an eyebrow at her and ask, "Am I to expect you back late, or not back at all tonight?"
"I'll be back a little later tonight. It is the first date after all. I'm not a floozy."
I laugh and get off the couch. "Need help with getting Zach corralled into the car?"
"Yes, please. This is a new dress."
~~~
The doorbell rings about an hour later. I roll off the couch, land on the floor with an "oof" and stand to go answer it. I'm not expecting anyone. But I'm not surprised when I open the door and see Carson standing there. He looks tired.
"Hey, Molly."
"Carson."
"I brought wood." He gestures to the bundle at his feet. "Your mom text me this morning saying you guys were low, but I was at work so I only got it a few minutes ago."
"That's fine." I step aside and hold the door open for him. "You know where it goes."
He bends down, picks the bundle up and then comes inside. I shut the door behind him, follow him into the living room. He sets the wood in the little cubby by the fireplace and turns to me. "Alright, I'll let you get back to your show."
I glance at the TV, having forgotten that I was even watching something. "You can stay for a while if you want to," I tell him without thinking about it.
"I was under the impression that you were still angry with me."
"I'm not." I rub absently at the cut on my arm. "I did some thinking and I think I have everything in my head sorted out now."
"Do you?"
"I do." I take a step closer to him, and he backs up. "I want you to stay for a while. Zach's at his friend's and Mom is on a date. So, I'm here all alone."
"Oh?"
I take a step forward. He takes another step back. Forward and back until his shoulder bumps the mantle and I stop with only a few inches of space between us. "I've been having some conflicting emotions towards you lately. But now they're sorted out and I'm ready to tell you what I've decided."
His eyes drop to my mouth for half a second before he responds, "By all means, tell me."
"Well, there's something I need from you to really cement this in my mind." I go up on my toes, put my hands on his shoulders to keep my balance. My lips brush his chin when I talk. "It's absolutely crucial it happens before I tell you my decision."
"Anything," he breathes out.
"Kiss me."
He doesn't waste any time. There's no teasing with his lips brushing against mine or our noses bumping. His lips crash into mine and he holds my face in place like I'm going to back out at the last second. I dig my fingers into his shoulder, bunch the fabric of his jacket into my palms. The kiss is rushed and sloppy and absolutely nothing like the one I dreamed about.
We both break to breathe against each other's mouths. His thumbs brush my cheeks, eyes burning into mine. Then he's surging forward again, his hands slipping down to my neck, his mouth pressing hard against mine. My pulse thrums under his palms, beats faster when one of his thumbs brush over the small bruises from the other night.
He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, bites at it a little. I swallow a noise. Push at his jacket to get it off of him. He takes his hands off me just long enough to let his jacket fall to the floor and then they settle on my hips, his fingers slipping under the fabric of my t-shirt.
When the kiss breaks this time, I follow the warmth of his mouth, try to get it back. He huffs out a laugh and tucks my hair behind my ears. "Will you tell me what you were going to say now?"
"Isn't it obvious enough?"
"Yeah, but I want to hear you say it."
I reach up and run my fingers through the hair that's flopped on his forehead. It's more coarse than it looks. "I like you."
He cracks another smile at me, those dimples deepening as he stares down at me. "Is that so?"
"Mm hm." I stand up on my toes again and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I think I have for a while. Things got a little messy in the middle of it, but I'm pretty sure this is right."
"Only pretty sure?" He grabs at my waist, pushes me backwards until we're both moving towards the couch.
"I'm about ninety percent sure." I part my lips when he kisses me again. His tongue slips in for a moment, but then the kiss is breaking as my legs bump the arm of the couch and I reach out to steady myself. We both laugh a little.
"What happened here?" He leans out of my space enough to get a look at my throat, to trace his fingertips over the bruises there.
"I must have done it to myself in my sleep."
"Looks kinda painful." He moves to my side, pushes my hair away from my neck so he can kiss at it. "You must have been having one hell of a nightmare to do that to yourself."
"I guess."
He steps around so he's now standing behind me. His hand goes to my throat, his palm pressing against the side of my neck and I can feel his fingers on the spots where the marks are. I can feel how they fit perfectly with the spacing of the bruises. My heart slams in my chest. The position is too familiar, too similar.
He speaks against my ear, his voice low and hushed. "Did you do it because you keep going back in that house? I thought you didn't like to be scared, Molly."
I shove at his arm, knock his hand away from my throat. My pulse pounds in my ears as I spin around to look at him. "What did you say?"
"You told me you don't like being scared, but you keep going back in the house."
"I haven't gone in there," I lie.
"I know you have. Why do you always lie to me?"
"Have you followed me in there?" I touch at the bruises on my neck, rub at the spots where he had kissed me. "It was you then?"
"Molly."
"No, don't. Don't try to explain yourself out of this one." I look around the room, for what I don't know. The slamming in my chest has my head in a frenzy. Nothing makes sense anymore. "It was you. Why...why are you messing with me? Was this all part of it too? Get me to let my guard down while I'm awake?"
He reaches out for me, grabs my arm when I try to move away from him. His grip is too tight, his nails digging in. "Molly, listen. I—"
"Don't!" I struggle against his grip, try to pull his fingers off of me.
"Listen to me!"
"I don't want to! Let go of me!" I lash out, scratch at his arm with my free hand. It leaves his skin under my nails and four red lines on his forearm. He doesn't let go of me though. Instead he grabs my other wrist and holds both my hands down at my sides. "Let me go!"
"Not until you listen to me! You're acting totally crazy!"
"I'm not! You're the one. You're the one doing this to me!" I try to move my arms, but he's a lot stronger than I am and for the first time I'm really noticing the muscles on his arms, the fact that even though he's thin he's fit and I'm not.
He starts to say my name again, but I don't let him get any further than that. My whole body trembles as I yank him closer to me so I can knee him in the groin. That gets him to let go of me. I hold my wrists to my chest and hurry out of the room while he's doubled over and groaning.
"Molly, wait."
"Leave me alone. I don't want to hear anything you have to say." I blink away the tears burning my eyes and stumble through the kitchen to the bathroom. The lock clicks and it eases some of the tension between my shoulder blades. I drop onto the toilet and rub at my eyes.
Carson knocks on the bathroom door. "Molly, please let me explain."
"Just go away! Leave me alone."
"Not until you listen to me."
"I'm going to call the police if you don't leave right now, Carson. I swear to God, I am done with your games. I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to talk to you anymore."
There's a loud bang on the door that makes me jump and then silence. I hear the front door open and then close, but I don't come out of the bathroom for a while. I sit on the toilet with my knees pulled against my chest and try not to slip into the sobs that are threatening to spill out.
I can't believe I thought I had been wrong. I can't believe I let him touch me like that.
He can deny it all he wants, but I know without a doubt now that Carson is the creep who has been messing with my head this entire time. And I'm going to prove it.