As soon as we got into the car, I threw myself into Isaac's arms, clutching him tightly. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here for you," he murmured, his voice steady but full of concern.
Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. In his embrace, I felt a fleeting sense of safety, something I hadn't felt all night. But my mind was still reeling, spinning in a storm of confusion.
I couldn't process what had just happened.
The image of the man, the blood, the life taken so suddenly—it was too much to bear.
The ache in my head, the tightness in my chest, it all felt suffocating.
"Can you not tell my mom about this?" I blurted out, pulling away from the hug. The thought of her worrying over me, knowing what I'd witnessed, was unbearable.
"Of course," Isaac said, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. His voice was soft, reassuring, but it didn't reach the chaos in my mind.
The rest of the ride was consumed by silence, the kind that makes you feel more alone than you've ever been. I laid my head against the cool window, my eyes shut, but I couldn't escape the vivid images.
Isaac dropped me off, making me promise that I wouldn't dwell on what had happened.
I nodded, even as the weight of it crushed down on me. I promised him I wouldn't think about it, but deep down, I knew that was a lie. I couldn't just forget. Not after tonight.
The house was quiet when I stepped inside.
As usual, everyone else was already asleep, oblivious to the nightmare I'd just lived. I checked the time on my phone—past midnight. The clock seemed irrelevant now. I headed straight to my room, feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world. A bath, I thought.
That's what I needed. To wash the night off me.
The water was hot, almost scalding, but I didn't care.
It felt like the only thing that could numb the storm inside me. I stayed in the tub for what felt like hours, but when I finally got out, I still couldn't shake the images from my mind.
I slipped into my pajamas, tying my hair up in a messy bun, and collapsed onto my bed.
I stared at the ceiling, the weight of the events replaying in my mind.
How had everything gone from normal to chaos in the blink of an eye? One minute, I was in the restroom, and the next... the world turned into a nightmare.
The stranger. The man with the gun. His face haunted me, his eyes locked on me with an intensity that chilled me to the core.
His presence screamed danger. He was a walking red flag. The kind of man who would ruin you if you let him. And yet, he didn't kill me. Why? Why had he spared me?
I couldn't stop thinking about the smirk on his face. It twisted something deep inside me, made my pulse quicken in a way I didn't understand.
As Isaac and I had rushed to leave the club, my curiosity got the better of me. I turned back to see if he was still there—still watching me.
The moment I met his gaze, a cold, predatory smirk curled at the corners of his lips. I froze, my body tense, heart hammering in my chest.
There was something dark, something hidden behind that smirk, but I couldn't figure it out. I didn't care. I wasn't going to see him again, so it didn't matter.
But deep down, something told me that wouldn't be the last time I crossed paths with him. And that realization—together with the haunting image of his eyes—made my blood run cold.