The Perfect Machine: Kingdom Of Glass (GxG

23. I can't breathe

Mary took her son Harry with her to work as she usually does. I offered him to remain here with me, yet she would not like to take any risks due to Harlow. She additionally figured it would be a smart idea for Harlow and me to talk. I revealed to her that I tried, but she would not like to hear me out.

Mary tried to convince me that Harlow cares and that she is trying to protect me from herself. I understand her point of view, but I believe we can get the pills she needs to cure her. It doesn't hurt to try.

I have been lying in bed ever since we argued this morning. It's the afternoon now, and Mary and her boy won't be home until the evening. So basically, I am stuck alone with Harlow. She is outside in the back. I don't know what she is doing, but she surely is making a lot of noise. I narrow my eyes as I hear a loud thud. It sounds like something fell and broke.

I leap up and venture down the steps.

"Harlow?" I call out her name before exiting the back door, and I watch her lean onto the wall of the shed and fall on the ground groaning in pain.

"Harlow!" I shout, rushing towards her and fall onto my knees next to her.

"What is wrong?" I ask, seeing that she is clutching her arm as though it was ablaze. The blackness in her left arm is rising all the way up to the side of her neck.

"Oh my god," I whisper to myself; it was not that much this morning.

"I'm fine," She snarls in misery.

"Sure, you are," I mumble as I roll my eyes.

"Please, go," She groans as she attempts to get up on her feet, and I try to push her along.

"Go!" She yells up near my face, which made me fall in reverse. She figured out how to get up to her knees, simply staying there clutching her arm as she is snarling in torment.

"Maybe Mary has some painkillers," I say on the way to lay my hand on her back, but she grabbed it, holding onto it tightly as she is staring me dead in the eye. Oh no. I try to fight my way out of her hand, but she is just too strong.

"Harlow, let me go!" I yell, and she chucks me to the side. I hold onto my aching wrist as I get up on my feet. But without seeing it coming, I fall onto the ground with Harlow on top of me. I try to reach for the air she knocked out of my lungs.

"I know you are there, Harlow," I say and push her off me, but she is too heavy. She leans down slowly, gazing at me for a while. I look to the side, seeing a rock not far from my hand. As Harlow is busy watching me, I grab it calmly and then swing it for her head. She falls out of my lap and I rush inside to lock the entrance.

I venture once again into the kitchen as Harlow punches all that she can to open the door. Tears are spilling down my face while my heart speeds up each time she hits it until she separates it.

"Don't," I beg as she comes closer to me with a nasty wound on her forehead and blood draining down her face. I knock my back onto the counter of the kitchen and Harlow is cornering me. I don't have any place to go.

"Harlow!" I shout this time as I stand my ground, but she comes closer to my face as she watches me completely blank. I grit my teeth in anger and raise my hand to slap her cheek. She shakes her head and gives me a second to slip away from her.

I escape for the front door, yet a hand on my shirt pulls me in reverse and I fall directly into Harlow. She bolts her arms around my waist and holds me firmly.

"I can't breathe," I raise my leg and step my foot on hers. So she is forced to let me go. I pivot rapidly and push her over with my body as she is simply remaining on one leg, and I fall upon her. I cup her cheeks to hold her.

"Harlow!" I yell directly in her face, and everything goes calm. She is simply laying underneath me, unmoving as her eyes swiftly look around. She narrows her eyes and lifts her hand to my cheek to stroke it tenderly with her finger.

Blood was on her skin when she restored her hand. I touch my cheek, but I don't feel a wound.

"It must be yours," I say, indicating at the wounded forehead. How she didn't end up unconscious, I don't understand. But, then again, there is a lot of things I don't get about Harlow.

"I'm sorry," She says as she hides her face with her arm.

"It's okay; it's not your fault," I say, but she remains hidden as I get up onto my feet again. I search the kitchen finding a cloth for Harlow and throw it at her.

"Dry yourself," I say and leave her alone.