E L E N A -

Crying and starved, I tried to make my way through the forest as quick as I could. As if a monster straight out of a horror movie was chasing me, I ignored every thud and every scratch, willing myself to move faster, though the chains on my legs held me down. They were much too heavy and lengthy, no matter how quickly I ran, I carried them behind me.

He couldn't find me here, I'd be fine. No one could hurt me if I hid.

The tears streaming down my cheeks stained my skin that was already covered with dirt and mud. My hair was matted down and tangled. The sharp pain in my abdomen was making it hard to even breathe, but I needed to make it out of here alive. The cut on my thigh had stopped bleeding hours ago, but I feared bugs would crawl into it, so I cut a piece of my dress off and wrapped it around it for pressure.

But my mind was playing tricks on me, I could tell I was going in circles. The trees were making odd noises and I was too terrified to look up, aleeady shaking in fear that their branches would reach down and take me.

I plopped down on the ground and began to heave, not aware I wasn't alone. The slow clapping, the cold chuckle, he had found me so easily.

He came out from the shadows, smirking at me knowingly. "Oh, sweetheart. What are you doing?"

"They'll find me. They're probably looking for me right now."

First I saw the familiar knife and then the rope.

Zayn looked indifferent. "No they're not, you know that. No one loves you and trust me, people are happy you're gone."

"That's not true."

But maybe it was? No, it couldn't have been. It has to be true, no one was looking for me, Zayn was right. He was right about it all.

"Oh, but it is. I wouldn't lie to you."

"I wanna go home," I cried out, sobbing into my torn dress. "I wanna go home. Please let me go home. I won't tell anyone. I won't t-tell anyone."

Zayn looked pleased with himself as he strode closer, picking up one of the chains and yanking it as hard as he could.

"Tell me why I should let you go home, sweetheart."

I looked up at him and shivered. "I don't want to die, why are you doing this?" I sobbed, "what have I done?"

He hovered over me and kneeled, his hand smoothing my hair as if to provide a sense of false comfort. "You know I don't like it when you run away. You provoked me. I can't offer you a second chance."

"Please," my tongue felt heavy in my mouth, the only thing I had consumed was some sort of strong hallucinogen that made it complicated to form complete thoughts. My body was fighting, but my brain was not allowing it to make the right decisions. "Kill me, please. I can't take this anymore. I'm hurting."

I wept harder at the thought of the baby I was expecting. How would we survive? We didn't stand a chance.

"I know," he took my arm and dragged me up by it, forcing me to look at him. "Maybe we'll go home sometime. You and I, together. That depends on you."