If there's one thing I secretly cannot stand, it's horror movies. I have tried relentlessly to like them, but every time I just am wishing that the end will come soon, or some electrical shock will take out the TV. Rachel finally learned how much I loathe them a few years ago after she wanted to have a scary movie marathon and I almost passed out. No one else really knows though since I don't want to come off as a wimp. As long as it's not a paranormal related movie I'll be able to survive it; they are my number one most hated films.

"Okay," I respond dryly, playing it cool, "What did you have in mind?"

"How about The Conjuring?"

Fuck me.

We walk back downstairs into the living room. I sit stiffly on the couch as he pops in the DVD and, once again, closes the blinds, making the room pitch black. He casually walks back over and presses play on the remote before sinking into the leather.

"Ever seen this before?" he asks me.

"No," I reply curtly.

"Well, you're in for a show."

Fuck me twice.

We are about thirty minutes into the movie, and I've slowly formed into a protective ball on the couch, curling my legs near my chest and placing both hands over my face, squinting at the movie through my fingers. I've always done that; I guess I feel that if there's less to see on the screen, it's not as scary. I feel Damon's warm hands rest on top of mine and I jump. He drags my palms away from my face and pulls me into him.

"Relax, it's not that bad," he whispers.

Unlike the last time we watched a movie and he told me to relax, I didn't obey. I try to seem as if I do though, because I need to get through this. But I feel like a little piece of me is dying within each minute of this movie.

Another thirty minutes later, I'm on the verge of just turning around to face the wall and plugging my ears until it's over; however, Damon is the first to move. I feel the couch shift as he lifts himself off of it, saying something about going to the bathroom, before leaving me to watch the movie alone. I resume my previous fetal-like position, and trudge through.

Abruptly, the screen thins out and goes blank. With the TV light gone, the room is filled with hollow darkness. The air around me feels heavy, and I feel like I'm choking on it.

"Damon?" I call out.

No response returns. I sit for another couple minutes before I finally get one.

"I think the power went out, I'm going to go check it out."

Wow, I guess I really did get that electrical shock.

I listen as his footsteps move down the hallway. I notice a dim glow of light enter the room—he must've found a flashlight—but it's gone as his footsteps become quieter. I hear him enter what I believe to be the kitchen. Suddenly, I hear a few loud cracks and a groan before a deadly silence engulfs the house. Adrenaline spikes through me, what the hell just happened? Is someone in the house? Is Damon hurt? A million questions are flying around my mind, but they're stilled in an instant as I hear unrecognizable footsteps slowly begin to make their way out of the kitchen. Instinctively, I crawl under the coffee-table in front of me. Fear has completely taken over my body, fear unlike from the movie, and I feel as if my racing heart can be heard a mile away. I still can't see anything, but the heavy steps are getting closer. I can't tell which direction they're coming from, so I'm just praying that they'll pass me by.

The pacing ceases just as they enter the room, and I'm holding my breath, trying to make as least noise as possible. Looking in front of me, where I thought I heard the footsteps, I desperately search for any sign of presence. I see a small shadow about four feet away, and I squint, trying to make it out.

Large hands grasp onto my ankles and swiftly yank me out from under the table. I'm screaming bloody murder and thrashing around. I refuse to open my eyes, but I feel my fist make contact with the intruder's jaw.

"Ouch! Damn Scarlett!"

Damon's voice resounds throughout me, making my eyes shoot open. Even in this dark, I can clearly make out his features as he rubs his jaw.

"W-wha?" my small voice barely audible.

"Scared you, didn't I?"

I see him smirk while he cups his jaw with his hand. It was all a prank? I feel my muscles begin to relax, but my heart doesn't. I'm about to scream at him, but I feel a small tear fall from the corner of my eye and travel down my face. Then, as if that individual tear broke the surface, the floodgates shatter, releasing all of the pain I've built up these past couple weeks. Not a moment later, I was in full-blown, chest-racketing sobs as the tears streamed down my cheeks. Damon's demeanor changed instantly, and in a second he had me picked up off the ground so that I am standing before him while he cupped my face, desperately searching for an answer. Even through my pain, I still felt the rage towards him, so I hastily shoved him away from me and charged towards the door. Running down his driveway, I hear his fast jog behind me, and he quickly catches up. He grabs my wrists and spins me around. I land on him hard, and he wraps his arms around me to subdue my struggling.

"Scarlett, it was just a joke! Where is this coming from?"

"That was so cruel!" I yell at him, "I'm already terrified of scary movies, and you go and pull that!"

At this point, I don't care if he knows. I just hope it's enough to convince him, because I'm not too keen on admitting the real reason.

"Why didn't you say anything before the movie?"

"I don't know, I never say anything. I don't want to be Scarlett-the-scaredy-cat."

I stop struggling and just rest against his chest while the tears continue to fall; because, even though he's the reason for them, I feel most peaceful in his arms. He grabs my face and lifts it, wiping away fallen tears with his thumbs. He hold my gaze, his eyes are full of compassion.

"I wouldn't have thought that."

I don't say anything back. Instead, I just stand there crying like the baby I am.

"But, you know as well as I that this kind of response was triggered by something else other than just a small scare. So spit it out."

"Effortlessly blunt as always."

"Scarlett," he commands more sternly.

"I can't do this anymore, okay!" I blurt out. I want to stop, but my mouth won't comply, "I can't, I need something more Damon. I'm leaving for college in a week, and we've made no closer of a step towards a relationship as we did the day I met you. I'm not like you, I can't just do this flirty, no-strings-attached thing we have going on; I need something solid that I can rely on. I've fallen for you, okay! It was never part of the plan, but it happened, and I need to know before I leave forever if this will ever be something more, if I can leave for college knowing you as my boyfriend and not my senior fling. So, this is it, what do you choose?"

I have to catch my breath after I just blurted out everything that's been eating away at me for the past couple weeks. I am nervous, but not totally because I'm almost certain that he feels the same way about me. Now, I'm just waiting for him to agree with me so that we can actually start the relationship I've anticipated for so long. I look up at him; a pained look is plastered across his face.

"You know I don't do relationships."

His words cut into me like ice: chilling my entire body while inflicting so much pain at the same time. I'm stunned with disbelief.

"You won't try though, for me?"

He looks almost sick, "I, I can't."

The blow is so unexpected and hard that I can't even form a coherent sentence. I feel hollow inside, alone. I feel abandoned all over again. I know my answer finally, in which I refuse to stay any longer, so I turn and start walking towards my car. He grabs my wrist again, but I don't turn around.

"That doesn't mean I want to lose you, Scarlett! I just can't be with you."

New tears begin to well and burn my eyes as my vision starts to blur, "That's not good enough, Damon."

I rip my hand away from his and continue down the driveway. He doesn't follow me, but he doesn't move either. He just watches me as I climb inside my car and fumble with my keys. I start the ignition and pull away without looking back. I feel so heartbroken, even though I was never dating the guy. How could he have thought we could have continued what we were doing while we were at college? We would've drifted apart, just as we will now; but, at least now there won't be any lingering hope, I can move on. I thought that I could find some grey, but I guess the world really is black and white; just, it won't be Black and White.

I get home and immediately crawl into bed, terribly wanting to drown out my pain with dreams.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I don't speak to Damon for the rest of the week, and he doesn't speak to me. I don't speak to him on the last day, I don't speak to him at graduation, and I don't speak to him at the after-party. Rachel comes over and I speak of him, explaining everything that happened, but that's as far as it gets. My last week here wasn't bad though, it was a great week with great friends and my great mother, but I'd be lying if I said I was fine.

It's now the morning I leave. It's just my mom, Rachel, and I, crying and laughing, knowing this is the last time we'll see each other for awhile.

Rachel sniffles as she says, "Kick butt at college, and try to actually get into a little trouble."

I laugh, "Doubtful, but I'll try, just for you."

"And I'm totally dropping by sometime so we can hit up the beach."

"Of course."

My mom walks outside teary-eyed but smiling, "Ready to go sweetie?"

I stare at my house, the house I've known for years now. The house I've spent my high school life in, and now the vacation home as I move on to my college life. Although change is not my strong suit, it's time to start anew.

"Let's hit the road!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *