Please, remember [Don't forget Book 2]

Casualty

I don't usually go to Starbucks. I had always preferred drinking black coffee at home with some friends. The idea of being surrounded by a lot of people makes me feel bad when I'm on my own.

All I do is sit by a table at the corner, facing the wall, and look at my phone's screen without actually doing anything. People enter and exit the place while I remain there with a cold coffee that I haven't even drank a sip of.

If I feel bad in this situation, why am I here? Easy. This place is kind of safe. I now find it relaxing in a certain way.

I can still picture a man entering abruptly with a gun in his hands, pointing right at me. I could imagine the pain I'd feel and the panic that would be created around me. However, others' voices keep me distracted.

If I was alone at home, I would have nothing that would help me ignore the darkness that my mind can create.

I take another sip of my coffee while playing clicker heroes. I was addicted to that game in the past, but now I don't really find it interesting.

A sigh escapes my lips. This will end soon, Eric.

Luck was by my side this time because you got a ticket to go back to Fairford in two days. Only two days. After that, I won't be afraid of being murdered nor tortured.

The nightmares might be worst though. My imagination can create every horrible scenario, but those thoughts will never look as real as a dream.

I called my mom this morning. She agreed with the idea of me returning home. I could only move, I know. But I might get paranoid. My sanity can easily blind me before leaving and I don't want that at all. Faking a happy life here will be hardest than doing it back home.

I told my mother and Thomas that this University wasn't for me, that I didn't like this life. A part of that is true: I don't like this life. I took decisions I regret now.

I could have been living something completely different if I had stayed at Fairford. I could have met someone meaningful for me instead of suffering for a guy who has already forgotten our story. I could have walk on the streets happily with my friends instead of being worried and followed by a police officer.

Maybe if I hit my head hard enough, I will forget...

"What a causality finding you here." A high-pitched voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I shake my head and stop tapping on my device before looking at the man in front of me.

He has blue eyes, a blue hoodie and is holding a pair of cups.

"Hi." I say, surprised.

He looks outside through the window. Felix is there, probably waiting for him. Nevertheless, Noah pulls a chair and sits down at the other side of the table and placing the drinks over the wooden surface.

"Are you actually ok, Eric?" The pale asks. I nod, speechless. He looks over my shoulder and then back at my eyes. "What did you want to talk with me about?"

I frown, cursing myself for not remembering the important things and only focusing on the stupid horrible possibilities.

"I-I don't quite remember."

He chuckles, spinning one of the paper cups slowly, trying not to spill the drink over the table. "Nice."

I look at his hands and then at mine. His actions are careful while mine are clumsy. I'm just locking and unlocking my phone over and over again.

"Shouldn't you be with your boyfriend?" I ask defensively, placing my phone on the table.

He sighs. "He'll be fine."

I take another sip of my almost empty cup.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a problem in your relationship." I lie. I'd gladly accept being the reason of their breakup. However, I don't plan to do that. I won't live here anymore, there's no point now to attempt something with Noah.

He doesn't answer, which makes me look at him. His gaze is focused of something behind me.

"I-I'm sorry Eric, but that man has been looking at us constantly. Is there something wrong with him?"

I freeze, swallowing hardly my saliva. Then, I turn around.

Fear fades away when I recognize the man as the policeman who's been keeping an eye on me. My muscles relax and I get up.

"I don't think so."

He frowns, getting up as well. “Eric. Something isn't right. Please, tell me."

I build a wall between my past and my present with the strength left in my soul.

"Why would I tell you? I'm just your stalker, right?"

"I want to help you." He says without expressing any feeling at all.

"Then, mind your own business." I state in a cold tone, fighting back the urge of telling him everything.

"Eric." He pleads. I refuse to look at his eyes because I know they're my weakness.

Noah himself is my weakness.

"Your coffee is getting cold." I conclude, drinking the last sip of mine and walking outside the establishment.

I can breathe again once I stop feeling his eyes on my figure. However, the pain grows in my chest as the distance between us gets greater.

Will I ever get tired of hurting the people I love?