1.

Present. Monday, 03:13

Maddie

Motionless, my attention clung to the silhouetted figure on the chair near the embedded wardrobe. Though phantom, his scrawny shoulders were recognizable as I'd playfully smacked it so many times before. Even the wrinkled cheeks which I may have been the last one to kiss upon its former unblemished beauty seemed to glow.

I gasped as he hoisted up, the sound of bones cracking bouncing through the corners of the room. And as the figure stood tall, all of a sudden it wasn't Harvey anymore. This man looked much older, grimmer as if had a grudge against the world. Against me. 

For a second, I held the void of his gaze. The next he uttered a gurgled groan, much like of a struggle. The bodyguard then angrily rushed towards me, limbs flailing.

His cold, slithery hands found their way to my neck, and I was shocked at how much strength they hid. My throat seemed tightened with bolts, and I couldn't scream.

My breathing hitched and suddenly I was fighting back, my fingers finding his eyes and harshly poking them. A colorless substance oozed from there and splattered on my face. A metallic scent overwhelmed my nostrils as a red one trailed next.

But he was persistent. The guard's crooked teeth flashed as he snarled.

I gave him the hardest push I could, and he was knocked back, his feet dragging on the floor as he

(Fell down the building to die)
floated away through the picture windows to disappear into the night.

 

2.

Present. Still Monday, 03: 15

Maddie
I awoke with a start, feeling nauseous, and sweaty. A dagger was the air as I desperately filled my lungs with it again. Regaining memory of what happened I defensively massaged the crook of my neck. "Oh God," I whispered.

Desperate for even the slightest of comfort, I looked around the contemporary bedroom, my eyes scrutinizing every detail from the rotating tv stand divider to the abyss of the slight gap of the floor and the bathroom door. A sigh escaped my lips as I found the chair occupied only with a mountain of clothes, though it wasn't of absolute relief. The loose shirt that I wore was soaked with sweat as well.

My feet slightly tingled as they met the fur rug. Though I enjoyed the company from the arms of the boy beside me, I just couldn't stay. The room itself felt like a prison with all its pristine black and white monotony.

I felt choked, wary as a gazelle might be when it wanders the savannah. With the will to escape, I rushed over to the bathroom to clean myself; to let the bits of that fucking nightmare drain down the sink. It didn’t make sense, but it was so vivid, like I’d die by just thinking about it.

My next venture was Brett's walk-in closet. I opened its glass front doors and rummaged the bottom row of the sleek black wood drawers right away. Their house staff always took care of the clothes I left, having them pressed and cleaned for me to use again. Yet I settled with simple silk pajamas.

"Maddie?" A hint of confusion could be noted in Brett’s inquiry. “Come back to bed.”

“I can’t. I’m going home.”

He reached over to his bedside table to check his phone. “Wha- At this hour? Let me drive you, at least.”

When I didn’t respond, he was swift to tug off the duvet and approached my shivering figure. With a slender hand, he cupped a side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Brett, then, slowly raised my chin so he could see me clearly, confirm what was wrong. Johansson sought my eyes, but I couldn’t muster to meet his. It was too much. The dam that held my tears might break.

The reason why I was silent was crystal, the shift in his expression said. “Maddie, you don’t have to act so tough all the time,” he began, “You keep up your pride, but we all know you’re hurting like the rest of us. You know that I care about you, right? I care about you so much.

“I also know that you feel guilty about Harvey and that guard. And we rightfully should.”

“Don’t, Brett,” I snapped, though shocking myself with the voice crack. “Just don’t. I… I don’t wanna talk about it because it hurts, okay? So, just leave it.”

He nodded his understanding yet proceeded to pull me in for a hug. I let him and intended to do so briefly. But oh, the odds were against me, demanding my tears to flow steadily. The need to embrace him back grew overwhelming, and I did, grateful for the solace he was able to give.

His strong arms were like a haven amidst a brutal war. I almost felt safe and secured, like I had nothing to worry about the world. But they were still there. And they clawed at me ferociously, wanting me to bleed out from wretched remorse.