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The lie comes so easily, I don’t like it. But I don’t know how else to protect myself. If I tell him the truth, that I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my bathroom, thinking… things, he’d probably report me to Mr Porter and Miss Linley.
I didn’t do anything though. I didn’t hurt myself.
That has to count for something.
“Abi?”
“Sorry, what?” I try to focus on Ethan, but my thoughts are too jumbled.
My gaze drifts past him to the door, the small window there, and my breath catches because I’m seeing things.
I must be seeing things.
“Abi, what’s wrong?”
“I… I have to go.” I shoot out of my chair and grab my bag.
“Miss Bancroft,” my name rings out. But I’m already at the door, my lungs tightening, blood roaring in my ears.
Crashing through the door, I scan the hall for Elliot. But he’s nowhere to be seen.
Because he isn’t out here.
My eyes must be playing tricks on me, conjuring him from the recesses of my mind.
Of course he wasn’t out in the hall, watching me through the window. Just like he wasn’t in my room last night. Or any of the other nights I’ve felt someone there.
I’m losing my grip on reality.
Before I can stop myself, I hurry down the hall and burst out of the emergency exit, spilling into the murky morning.
It feels familiar. To be standing out here with rain pelting down on me.
Only this time, no one comes to save me.
I lift my face to the sky and close my eyes, letting it wash over me like a river. I wish it could cleanse me. Purify me and rid me of this dark stain on my soul.
“Red,” a voice says, and I turn slowly to find Elliot standing there, watching me.
“You.” The word leaves me on a sharp inhale. “It was you…”
He has been watching me.
“Abi, I—” He takes a step forward but I step back, the word ‘no’ forming on my lips.
“No. No, no, no, no…”
Everything comes crashing down around me. The fragile sense of survival I have left. The walls I’ve built around myself—my heart.
The pennies drop faster than I can process, and I practically stumble over my own feet to get away from him. Because I’m not ready to deal with the truth.
Not after everything that’s transpired between us.
I take off toward the Student Welfare Centre but veer off down a less trodden path toward the old shed on the edge of the grounds.
The second I slip inside, I’m met with the smell of soil and dust. Discarded pots and planters line the shelves, a collection of rusty gardening tools hanging on a rack along the wall.
All Hallows’ is old but this place looks like it’s ready to crumble.
