I run and run and run, not looking back.
My heart, pounding, me panting for air, I don’t stop and turn a sharp corner. Then, I run out of an escape exit.
Was that the most safest idea? You tell me.
My mouth becomes dry as I skid around the corner of the stadium, my legs not only hurting from yesterday but also because it feels like I’ve been running for hours now. Then, the person grabs me.
Me panicking, I start squirming around, trying to get the person off me. The masked person doesn’t say anything, but puts a sharpened knife around my throat, making me freeze.
Don’t die like this, not today.
Frozen, unable to move, she takes the blade and gazes it against my neck and I can barely feel the sting coming from it.
I then jam my elbow into the person’s armed side, making the mystery person drop the weapon. I take the person’s hand but she slips out of my hold just as fast as it started.
What do I do?
Running out of hope, I kick the knife away and start to squirm, knowing that’s the only way I know how to escape.
So, I squirm. And squirm, and squirm.
And I’m free.
Petrified, traumatized, and worn out, I start running.
The mystery person grabs my trembling ankles, causing me to trip and collapse on the gravel.
I squirm again, kicking the person in the jaw. The person’s arms shoot up to where I kicked, leaving me time to get up and run away.
And once again I got away.
I rush back to the entrance of the stadium, still scared for my life. Harry’s still doing the show and everyone else is doing their job. I’m just grateful I’m in a safer area.
I don’t know what to do, though. If I call the police, what if the person wasn’t there anymore, it’s been around 10 minutes now so the person has most likely ran before the police even had a chance.
Or maybe I’m being stupid.
All I know about the masked person is that I’m pretty sure the person’s female as she has feminine hands and her eyes, from what I can remember, are blue.
I look at Harry, trying to forget about what just happened, as he interacts with the screaming crowd.
His tired eyes flicker to mine, as his smile fades away. I think he can tell. I mean considering I’m shaking, and can barely breathe normally, with my neck bleeding and stinging, I would hope he would know.
I wouldn’t expect him to see the cut, though, I’m in the shadows a bit.
He turns around so his back is facing the crowd and drinks his water. Whilst doing so, his face turns to me and frowns.
“What’s wrong? You okay?” He mouths, concerned for me.
I really don’t want him to worry but you can’t exactly not worry about this. I could say I’m fine but that would be a complete and utter lie.
“Not really, no,” I attempt to play it cool as I shake my head.
His frown becomes more prominent as he looks away to grab his guitar before looking back at me. “One more song,” He mouths again putting his index finger up. I nod to him, still trying to shake the fear I have off my shoulders. “Love you,” He smirks, making my heart beat in my chest, stomach fluttering before he turns around to the roaring fans.
“I love you too,” I whisper, knowing he didn’t see or hear me.
For the last song, I was in complete and utter awe of him, a smile not being able to leave my face. Deep down, I’m petrified but I kept my eyes peeled to him so I could forget what just happened though it’s not easy to forget.
I watch as he waves to the fans, rushing off the stage, bringing me back to the reality that I’ve been almost killed twice now.
“What happened? Are you okay? Blossom, you’re neck.” I finally hear his voice again as he takes my lower arms, scared for me.
“Th-them,” I say, now finding it more overwhelming than I did before. My chest rises again, my heart beats rapidly in my full chest. “Masks.”
“How long ago, love? They did this to you?” He asks, speeding up his voice, rubbing my shoulderblades, trying to keep as calm as possible.
“Around 15 minutes ago,” I stutter out.
“What?” He asks, surprised it took that long “Did you call anyone?”
“No.” I say “I’m sorry, I know it was stupid. I should’ve c-” I cut myself off simply to breathe again.
He shakes his head and brings me into a hug, making my insides warmer than ever. I curl my shaking arms around his shoulders as I listen to the beat of his heart. I feel safe. “I just wanted to get out of there, Harry.” I whisper, him holding me tighter “Why me?”
“Love, the person out there most likely knows James.” He backs out of the hug and stares at me with his serious eyes. “What did the person look like?”
“Blue eyes,” I say, trying to remember what I saw. “Feminine hands. Nails painted purple, I think.” I say pausing between each sentence, calmer than before.
“Do you know anyone like that? Any friends of his?”
I shake my head no. “No, I’ve never spoken to any of his friends. I complained at times,” I remember once he winded me by kneeing me in the stomach, maybe of been an accident, though, he tripped up.
“We’ll find her.”