"He won't ever find me", I told the image in front of me.
It was me but it wasn't me at the same time.
I had short black hair with light green eyes but the figure in front of me has long blond hair with dark brown eyes. Its rediculous. How a wig and lens can change a person so much.
I sighed.
"I did the right thing", I tried to convince her. Even if I wasn't sure, I forced her to believe it.
Its been a week.
A week since I left that hotel.
A week since I left that city.
A week since I've been living a life of complete stranger.
A week since I've last seen him.
I closed my eyes and fell back over that cheap uncomfortable bed.
Did I make a right decision?
I have asked this question to myself a million times in last 7 days.
And everytime I try to resist the debate over the issue and force myself to believe
"I did the right thing"
But is it really the truth? For once I let my thoughts wonder.
I can't sleep anymore. Everytime I try to , I wake up screaming in complete loneliness . I've been having nighmares since the day I left him.
Images of a wrathful manic Ian appear in front of me and my thoughts incontinently stumble to the things be would do to me.