This chapter isn't finished and is going to need some editing... Just a warning...
Rochelle walked back to her flat thoughts swirling her head.
She didn't want to hurt Harry, she didn't want to push him away.
But if she let him in, she'd let her guard down.
There was a silver cord between her and every person she encountered, it served as an emotional bridge. It was through this she could feel other emotions, share her emotions. All though lately, it had became a pathway for telepathy.
The more she knew a person, the more she let them in; the stronger this cord got, and that's what she was scared of.
The more she pushed her powers away, locked them inside, the more the built up and more pain was caused.
She imagined it like a coke bottle that had been shaken, the coke expands, bubbling and fizzing, and once the lid is off, the coke shoots out, staining everything in its way.
The cord was the lid on her coke.
One wrong move and all the built up power would go crashing into Harrys brain, smash down every mental barririor, and tear him apart. And she couldn't let that happen.
She swung her bag besides her, whilst lighting a fag and taking a deep drag, she watched the smoke billow out in front of her face, she sighed and shook her head slightly as she aprouched her door, it was then she noticed the figure outside.
She pulled her hood up and put the ciggerete to her lips as she squinted down the road, she reckognised the figure instently. The women let herself into Rochelle's flat and Rochelle groaned as she followed behind, fag still lit.
She cleared her throat as she walked into her living room, and took a drag of her fag, she walked towards the women, who was standing besides the fire place.
"Been a while Mum" she mutted, blowing smoke in her face.
"Did you remember you had a daughter then, or did you attened church and feel guilty about pissing off and leaving me here?" Rochelle snapped, stubbing out her fag.