She began to fear every sound since she had met him. With every step she looked over her shoulder. Fear of him kept her wary. Trying to run from the nightmare he put her through was all that mattered, but the pain of being away from half of your sou...
I wish I had never read that file. I wish I didn't still have that file sitting at the end of my bed. I've been here for nearly a week with nothing to do and that file taunted me the entire time. I've read and reread those papers so many times. The first time I'd gone through them I'd been skimming, but I've practically memorized it by now. Looking back, I remember a scar on his browbone being one of the first things I'd noticed about him. I hadn't thought much of it then. Now knowing a beer bottle had mysteriously fallen on his head giving him that scar makes me wonder how many he has. He had been clothed the entire time I'd known him, and I hadn't thought to ask about how he got his scar. I sigh at my own thoughts. It doesn't really matter how many scars he does or doesn't have. At the end of the day the best possible outcome is for him to be out of my life. I get out of this hospital in a couple of days and this time I'm not stopping for anything. I've already managed to get out of my lease on my duplex and paid movers to put everything in storage. I bought my plane ticket to the other side of the country and put in my notice at work. I hadn't yet found a place to stay when I get there, but it's easier to stay in a motel than it is to worry about a run in with Apex. If I stay here, I truly believe that he will kill me. I pity him for his past, but that doesn't mean I should stay here. I do wonder what he'll do once I'm gone. The idea of him torturing someone else fills me with guilt. I don't really feel like I'm tying up all loose ends here, but what else can I do? Thinking about all this brings an ache to my neck. I talked to my doctors about the possibility of an infection. He did bite into my neck and that can't be the most sanitary or safe thing in the world. Oddly enough, there was no scar left behind. If not for all the weird feeling I've been getting I'd think that I'd imagined it. Luckily my doctors don't believe I have an infection, however I don't think they're telling me everything either. This hospital is weird. There's a knock at the door. A nurse comes in with a tray of food and sets it down on my bedside table. She leaves wordlessly. I'm so sick of eating hospital food. There's only so many options to choose from and I'm sick of it. I look down at the tray. It's the same boring tray as usual. Plastic cloches cover the same food I've eaten seemingly one hundred times before. One thing that is new though is the folded peice of paper peeking out from under one of the plates. It's a bit hidden. If I hadn't stared down at this tray so many times before I might not have noticed it, but now it'd be impossible not to. I take the note and unfold it. The writing is almost illegible. "I'm so sorry mate. I understand why you don't want to see me, but I can't leave you", it says. It doesn't take much guessing to figure out who wrote this note. My anxiety spikes reading it. How did he even know this would get to me? I look at the tray and realize it's been marked by room number. This means he knows where I am, and he must have of gotten into this hospital somehow to put the note on my tray. Could he get to me? My heartbeat quickens at the thought of him reaching me. I start pressing my call button as I start to hyperventilate. Horrible thoughts fill my head. What does he mean? Why can't he leave me alone? He could get to me again and lock me back under his bed. I can't go back there. I'd rather die than be back there. The room around me starts to feel dark and small. It's almost like if I stretched my arms, I could touch the walls. The smell is killing me. The stench of my own filth hovers around me. My neck begins to ache terribly as I panic. I feel so trapped. I can't go back to that awful place. I close my eyes tightly and start to dig my nails into the crook of my elbow. I've been learning recently that it's a lot easier to deal with pain than it is fear. I open my eyes to see the world around me returning to normal. I breathe deeply and try to calm down. Looking down at my arm I see my nails have drawn blood. I pull away my hand to see the damage. I broke skin and there's five distinct half-moon shapes carved into my skin. Sighing I take the napkins off my tray to staunch my bleeding. I look at the room around me to see the mess I've made. My tray is untouched thanks to being on my table, but everything else around me has been wrecked. My sheets are now tangled around me and my splotches with blood. Papers from Apex's file are scattered on my bed and floor. Everything is as much of a wreck as I feel.
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