A knock on the door makes me open my eyes. Harlow peeks in carefully through the crack of the door.

"What is it?" I ask, and she comes inside the room to sit down on the bed next to me.

"I'm sorry," She says, looking down to avoid my eyes. I can see the embarrassment and guilt all over her face.

"I should be able to control those outbursts of mine better, but I can't," Harlow's eyes are on me now and filled with anger, but also sadness.

"It's okay; it's not your fault," I say calmly, even though I wish I could scream in her face how mad I am at her. Not because of her lack of control, but because she can't see that I care if she dies or not. Harlow is the closest to a friend I have ever had and she doesn't deserve to be in this pain.

"I need you to understand that I can't be around you anymore. You have been fortunate that I haven't hurt you yet, and at some point, that luck will run out. If I hurt you, I can't live with myself, and I need you to understand that I can't hurt you," She explains to me, taking a deep breath and I shrug at her words.

"I will leave tonight, okay?" She lay her hand on my leg while gazing at me; however, I stay calm. As she most likely is aware I won't react to her, she leaves the room and shuts the door behind her. I grab the sheets and pull them over my head, feeling silent tears coming out of my eyes. My hands are trembling, along with the rest of my body.

I sit down in front of the table, next to Harlow. Mary made soup for dinner, and it's genuinely lovely of her. I don't feel hungry because all the mixed emotions have filled my appetite, but it would be wrong of me not to eat.

"Do you really have to leave?" Harry asks Harlow sadly. I look at the front door where Harlow has left her packed bag—feeling the disappointment in my heart.

"Yeah, I have too," She answers, and I clench my jaw as I move my spoon around in my soup. I can tell that Mary is watching me with worry, but I don't have anything to say at the moment. I wish Harlow didn't have to go. We could figure this out, find a solution, but instead, she chooses to run away.

"Where are you going to go?" Mary wonders and I see Harlow shrug next to me.

"Someplace away from people," She sighs, but then she stiffens quickly. She pulls herself away from the table and peeks through the gap in the window.

I cover my ears as a loud noise surrounds us and items around me break into pieces.

"Get down!" Harlow shouts, but I am frozen in my seat. A pull on my shirt makes me fall onto the floor. Harlow grabs the table and makes it fall as a cover for us while bullets are flying all around. She groans in agony as she falls above me. Her face is so close to mine that I can feel her breath on my face.

We gaze directly into one another's eyes and every last bit of me wants to kiss her once more. I realize I shouldn't, yet she resembles a current. Regardless of the amount I attempt to get to the shore, she continues pulling me underneath the surface where I can't catch my breath.

The shooting stops, and I can tell Harlow is trying to listen. Mary is lying next to us as she trying to protect her son just the way Harlow is trying to keep me safe.

"Come out, come out, baby girl!" A man shouts, and Harlow's eyes narrow as she clenches her jaw. She seems triggered by the man outside.

"What is it?" I ask because her fright makes me scared. Harlow gets off me, and I see blood streaming down her arm.

"Are you okay?" I ask, worried as I rush up on my feet, taking her hand to search for her injury.

"Yes, just a flesh wound," She says and gets up on her feet and peaks out one of the bullet holes that were made in the walls. Harlow clenches her jaw repeatedly as she sighs and massages her forehead.

"Who is that?" I ask, as she clearly is bothered, but Harlow just stares at me in emptiness.

"Harlow?" I call her name as she has been quiet for a while now. She rubs her forehead while looking at me with an apologetic gesture.

"It's my brother."