Holding his hand made me feel alive, I didn’t know that that would be the thing that betrays me.

It started on Wednesday night when I was walking home from school, my footsteps were a rythmic drum staying on beat. I could hear someone tapping a cane on the floor. The sound sent chills down my back, so much that the hairs stood up. I wanted to turn around but the fear of who it could be kept me facing forward. My heart was beating so hard I felt if come out my chest. Then a hand was placed on my shaking shoulder, it sent cold shocks over my body, I was hesitant to have a glance at who it was. I gathered all the courage left in my body and turned my head around. A boy, not much older than myself, his hair was shiny and dull at the same time, curly yet straight and the blonde highlights were illuminated by the moon. His face was like what I had seen before but I couldn’t remember where. Next thing I knew, we were chatting whilst walking along the moonlit path. Birds were chirping but not in the way they usually did, this time it was more serene, more peaceful. His name was Jax, well his full name was Jackson. Turns out he had a disability that caused one of his legs to stop working, and he had seen me at the coffee shop yesterday but was too nervous to talk to me. Guess we were both nervous.

The next week we decided to meet up for coffee, this time intentionally. I had a strawberry matcha whilst he had two shots of espresso. Maybe he didn’t get much sleep last night. Then our dates turned into interrogation, he asked what days I went to the gym and what days I would stay at home, alone, I thought nothing of it because maybe he was trying to surprise me, or maybe he was doing something much worse.

I was in my house watching my favourite movie when I heard a noise, it shattered my eardrums. Someone had broken into my house. Next thing Jax was in my house, “ someone broke into while I was walking by” he shouted, I tried to believe him but why was there a knife in his hand? He told me that he knew someone who was trying to kill me, I was forcing myself to not cry and stay calm. “I need to hurt you and you can play dead so they believe that someone else killed you,” the words wrung in my head. I agreed. He put the knife to my throat, his hands shaking. “ I trust you” I managed to stifle out. I thought he would glide it across my throat gently but instead the knife went straight through, my breathing was stuttering and my eyes were slowly closing. The last thing I saw was him laughing to himself maniacally. That was the moment I lost trust in him, but I also lost trust in myself. Darkness