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Chapter 3 A Phobia Of Hunter

Word Count: 1816    |    Released on: 07/11/2024

odshed, I would have found

beast. Or perhaps he played out his actions so

ten switched tones, imitating baby voices in our voice

ccustomed to texting me emojis and funny gifs. Not to forget how he wok

stant memory; replaced by th

kness ahead of me, bracing myself for the words my mind will

un my fingers through his hair-when I wish

s to infections. He also mentioned how he'd battled several infectio

emedy other than covering the ey

nto the North Sea. Now I'm staring at the same face, yet it doesn't seem familiar.

r the day you got me this bracelet?" I lift my wrist, and Hunter glances at the bracelet. "It was the first ti

tug at his lips, but the sm

Then, he clears his throat and places his hands on the steering wheel, looking i

xcited. And I bet you do not want that when it's on the accelerator." He switche

face when I see the young woman lying in

nds are shaking as I hold the phone. I don't th

ails of sirens drift in while growing louder; when

rn

phone from me before spraying it with vin

ek reverberating in my throbbing head; the

ush the poor gir

ne as I say with urgency, "Hunter, I

hisses, "

iden on the road, just before m

lls down a second after, letting in cold air that hits me on

erved to avoid the girl. Relief washes throu

e's speeding through the dark, from

, I ask, "Where ar

er says, his ton

ouse. And even if we did, I think it's

e with you, Hunte

laugh. "Oh, you are." No, I'm not

sh

's saying? And it's just been the same thing over again-the fact that

fucking killed people! Who knows what shit he di

ting him drive me to crap before Hunter bellows, "I might do wo

ze nearly swallowed his words. If he thinks killing isn't th

chebag? It hurts because I loved the guy when he migh

inking several times to force ba

shaking my head. My fingers rub against each other while I s

y m

. I had tried before and failed. But now I have to de

gut. And that is lunging at the steering wheel

consequences will ensue. All I kn

ere the dense trees might offer me a chance at freed

ghts to keep the vehicle steady. But my

is as hard as cracking an infan

d and slamming into a tree with a jarring thud. Then I

ly since I'm gasping for breath, each air I breat

branches stretching above would look more aesthetic with the snow in a picture. Yet, that's no

arm bath, and a shoulder to lean on. But t

ever on the

d from time to time. Blood. Open chests. Pale skin. Blue lips.

hes from the icy wind and exertion. But fear is my motivation and

nd keep running with the resolve that nothing will stop me. N

to look back to see who it is. Who else would it

from him for good, even if I have to hide my whole life. I'll live in caves and lie

's going on, I'm stumbling and

es through me. It scrapes my skin, my bones cramping, and my head s

eath from my lungs. Flailing and gasping for breath, the rapi

g current, my body goes limp as the water carries me

it d

I'm lying on something even if I can

g aches going on in my heart, even gettin

ust take the pain away, or leave it, I don't mind as long as ther

ot to feel uncomfortable. Not to believe that I don't like this place. Not to star

ess. There's no love and no joy. Just insanity. P

when I open them again, I feel warm and cold at the same time. And I find the v

t skips

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