Ah, I distinctly remembered. It was during the bleak December night when he attacked. His eyes sharp and cold as I stood frozen in fear, sweat dripping down my forehead from the burning of the candle behind me, his lips in a thin line, his face showed no emotion.

 

He stood frozen in front of me, questioning me. As if to say, “Will you do anything?” I cuddled into myself, the coarse wool of my jacket scraping my hands. I tried to keep myself far away while trying not burn myself from the hot of the fire or the waxy candle stick.

 

I decided to run away from him, trying to get my grip. I went on the cold wooden floor, as I crawled past him, fear striking me as I tried not to look back. I tried not to see the cold gaze that he gave me. I tried not to see the nonexistent emotions blazing in his eyes.

 

Creak, creak, creak, creak. I reached the door and turned my head to see him standing still, his back towards me as I slowly reached my hand towards the doorknob, turning it slowly. It opened with a pop. He turned over to me, his head cocking to the side. He stared deep at me, the non-expression never leaving his face,

 

“You can’t keep running away from this.”

 

His voice was deep and dark, mouth never opening. He just looked at me. I slowly stood up, trying to make myself look taller than I was. He just stared at me, his eyes never leaving or batting, the sound of my heartbeat grew louder and faster while he just stared.

 

And then I ran! My feet against the floors of the apartment halls, I walked down the hallway, down the small and narrow staircase, my eyes continued to repeatedly look behind me and see no one. But, I knew better. I was to reach the cold and hard winter outside before I was to stop, my feet landed on the floor of the bottom hall of the building, the smell of the musky bookcase still lingered from when this was a library. I was heaving very loudly when I reached the gigantic doors, spiraled with dark marks. I let out a sigh until I heard the sound; it was coming from the staircase.

 

Clamp, clop, clamp, clop. I slowly shivered at the sound, but I kept going, my shaking hand going on the cold and smooth surface of the door knob. I slowly opened the door for the harsh winds of the winter to swirl around me and through me as I kept my feet stationed on the ground. I ran outside; my booted feet sunk into the cold, white snow, as drops of snow landed on my hair, mixing with my ebony chocolate curls.

 

I froze soon, my feet freezing in the layers of snow that almost reached the top of my boots. I saw the shadow of a silhouette of the person I had hoped never to see again; this time, though, he wasn’t frozen. This time, he was charging at me, his eyes blazing and burning with anger as I tried to move. I tried to run away again, but my feet felt like weights pulling me down into the grounds and my body felt stiff and frozen itself.

 

I started to panic, my heart beating hard against my chest as I tried to move back. “I told you already, Dylan! You can’t keep hiding away!” he said, his voice as emotionless as before, but his face looked enraged. His feet were soundless in the snow as he ran towards me. I fell in the snow, as I tried to run away, but my feet weren’t stable. My back hit the cold, wet, and lonely snow I used to love playing in when I was little, as I closed my eyes tight I heard my heartbeat start to go faster, thump thump thump thump thump thump.

 

I opened my eyes to see that he had stopped, and his eyes stayed sharply on mine. He looked like a statue. He just stood, nothing moving. The snow seemed to fall really slow, and I gulped trying to breathe. My throat felt like it was closing. I kept trying, trying to put any air into my needy lungs. He was extremely close as I felt myself lose all senses of my body as I just looked up at him. “Dylan, it’s time you learn from your actions,” he states. I breathed quicker as I tried again to move.

 

But it was no use. I was stuck.

 

I felt the air go out of me painfully. He walked through me quickly, as all the life left my soul soundlessly, going up with the night. My breath quickens as I tried to regain my breath. He was just looking at me, though, his eyes never moving or blinking, just staring intently as if he thought I would move. As if he didn’t know what was happening, as if he had no soul.

 

And he doesn’t. He’s just a part of my imagination. Hazy thoughts clouded through my mind. My head fell to the cold snow again, my face freezing against the cold winter of the night, harsh winds slapping and trees trying to stay still. My eyelids felt extremely cold and heavy. I saw him staring at me with those cold, dark eyes.

 

“It is time for you to realize that your actions have consequences.” That was the last thing I heard before my eyes closed shut as the cold winds continued to blow, my mind slowly going off before my breath slowed down.



No one exactly knew how Dylan Adams died. Some thought it was because Dylan was insane, always mumbling about this guy when he slept, friends of the adults always said. Others think it’s because Dylan never got over Elizabeth Adams, but others thought Dylan just hated life in general and wanted to leave this world.

 

But the true mystery that no one had acknowledged was did Dylan really die? There was no body or sign that was found to determine if Dylan died. Even how it happened. Even at the inns people at the hotel never truly noticed the quiet and somber Dylan. And it’s sad to say that no one will truly know how the young Dylan Adams died unless they were there on that fateful December night.

 

Do you?

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