BENEATH TWISTED HEARTS - Lies Doubt and Obsession

The alley was quiet but, the gentle breeze soothed and cozied me.

I put on my headset listening to "Break My Heart" by Ella Mai. It was funny how I enjoyed romantic songs and movies, but as a person it never interested me.

The alley was dry, and no one was seen. Just then, pang...pang...pang.

I stopped for a moment. It was a gun shot.

For a moment I refused to let it bother me. My steps were firm and sturdy. Whatever happened was not my business.

The gun shots intensified.

I reduced the volume of my music but, I kept walking. I never let things that weren't my business faze me.

However, I felt someone run past me but, I wasn't sure.

I stared into the distance the figure had disappeared into, but no one was in sight.

I quickened my foot step.

Suddenly, a firm hand grasped onto me.

I froze.

The hand was cold and strong.

"Help me," He said in a whisper. I tried to remove his hands but, he stared down at his other hand.

It was a gun.

Cold sweat ran down my spine.

"How can I help you?" I stuttered.

What if he pulled the trigger? God ooh no I didn't want to die.

I closed my eyes tightly.

His other hand was covered in blood. He was bleeding from his belly.

Goodness gracious, "what have I done?" I mumbled.

He stretched out his gun. "What did you say I should do?" Fear grips me. "Take me with you." The words he said rang like a bell in my ears, "How do you mean." My heartbeat quickening. "I mean your house." He said hoarsely. I didn't ask anymore questions. I held onto his hand and led him to my apartment.

What crime have I committed? I thought. Hand in hand we walked into my apartment. I loved my room clean and in order.

He removed his face cap and tossed it onto the couch. I wanted to tell him not to do that however, my life was still hanging on a thread.

Having mysophobia was already killing me but, what if he shoots me?

I gently picked it up and threw it into the bin. I ran into my room.

My heart closed just like the door did.

I stood there wondering what just happened. "Did I just bring a stranger into my house?" I didn't understand, but I had no choice.

I went to my bedside and, picked up a first aid box and, exited the room.

Slowly, I walked over to him.

My hands trembling. "Let me help you dress your wound" I said, trying to compose.

He stared at my face then to my hand and, waved his hand gesturing for me to come closer.

"Make sure not to do anything silly" He muttered, his gaze fascinated on the box.

I bent over and, helped him undress. My hands trembling.

Looking at his well formed abs I couldn't help but swallow hard.

His body was freakishly good looking.

I gasped.

I could feel his gaze glued on my face.

"You like what you see?," He teased coldly.

I called my thoughts in order. I didn't reply to his remark.

He watched my every action until, I was done dressing his wound. It was a stab not too deep, but I assumed he must have lost a lot of blood.

As soon as, I was done dressing his wound; I stood up to leave but, he stopped me.

"Because you have helped me, I won't kill you yet" I knew that voice, that demonic voice. Those from dark romance dramas.

"Thanks," I said and I hurried into my room. My heart almost jumped from its rip cage.

Just then, I had a loud bang.

He was banging of the door

My heartbeat quickened.

"What are you doing inside there? Are you calling the police?" His voice pierced the whole place.

I froze.

"Who did I bring into my house?" my body trembled, cold sweat ran down my body.

"Open this door" he said, his voice devoid of any warmth.

I didn't dare open the door, I couldn't. My hand gently clung to the door handle. Should I open it, should I not? My heart raced.