It's What Makes Me, Me

Ironically I felt cold, was this how it ended? Just like in the movies, I would become cold and die quietly.
Visions flashed before me eyes; scenes from my past coming back haunting my mind.
It was creepy like something out of a horror movie, dark and eerie giving off the long silence of a vast and deserted forest. After what seemed like an age creeping through dead branches, on my own, a silhouetted shape of a tattered old shack came into view. I looked at the floor, there were trampled leaves everywhere, lurking in the shadows of the trees there were lots of irregular shapes. I had this feeling that something or some one was watching me, eyes following every little movement or action I made. I sprinted, screaming, my heart pounding after I’d heard a noise from the dark, leaf filled hedge beside me.
With my heart racing and adrenaline soared through as I broke down the half- rotted door, in to the old tattered shack I ran. The cobweb infested corridor with creepy old portraits and photos hung in their rusty old frames. A door lying at the end of the hallway slowly creaked open. It was a sign or a warning, I should’ve ran but I didn’t care I wanted to carry on, I had come too far to turn back now. I eventually got into the chamber; I felt a presence, stumbling across the floor I fumbled for the light switch as I went. When I eventually found the switch it was covered in dust and grime. Turning around the room wasn’t much better in the light, the once painted walls were chipped and black, and the previously white carpet was now covered in stains and inanimate objects that I don’t think you want to know about. Empty beer cans lie in piles and the left over cigarette smell loomed in the air, a white chair sat empty in between me and another door. Suddenly the lights went out and my ear piercing scream filled the rooms.
I didn’t know what had happened. I stepped forward moving the chair out of the way to get through the door, I heard footsteps behind me and I ran, no I sprinted, slamming the old door behind me.
As I turned I saw it, a dark figure leaning against the flaking frame of the door way, blocking out the light from inside, pale and chillingly, the light of the full moon cast shadows across his face. I turned to flee but he was quicker, much quicker and I was stopped, trapped. His footsteps echoed through my mind, and then everything went black.
That wasn’t how that night had ended; I had been through so much pain and torture that night, why wasn’t I reliving that moment? Why had I stopped before the memory got too emotional?
My body was fighting to bring me back to reality, I was controlling my visions I wouldn’t let myself even there feel emotions.
The blackness remained as I felt myself falling into consciousness.
My body, with its iconic cold feeling suddenly gained warmth and fast. I wrenched my eyes open; I didn’t like not knowing what had happened, unable to recall any of my actions or thoughts before my blackout, before my memories had flooded my mind. Where was I? I tried to figure out my surroundings as my vision continued to be a blur. My fingers ran across a smooth fabric before hitting a solid object, this was the source of the heat radiating towards me.
As my eyes finally adjusted, I could finally understand why I was cold, my clothes had been removed, and I was now lying upon black silk sheets in my underwear and a hoodie I knew not to be mine. Turning my head slowly, till I met the centre of the heat, Charlie. Charlie was only wearing boxers, what had happened? Had I? No I couldn’t have, wait, why else would we be in underwear in bed? How could I ask him the truth?