~~~~Sloane
Everything hurts.
My head throbs with a new level of intensity, and I blink my non-swollen eye open. What the-? Metal cuffs are clamped around my feet and hands, no, no, no, this can’t be real. Let me go back to sleep. But no matter how many times I squeeze my eyes shut, I’m still here. A room filled with different tools that will bring my inevitable destruction.
“I see my little demon is up.” A raspy deep voice whispers and a shudder races down my spine. Sir’s masked face enters my line of vision, and I can’t help the wave of fear that courses through my veins.
“I’m not your anything.” I force out through a clenched and throbbing jaw. Every word hurts as it leaves my mouth. Sir’s dark eyes narrow, but he shrugs it off and goes to a small table, filled with...knives.
“You see, every time you disobey me, I will have to use these.” Sir motions to the vast array of carving tools on the table. Why the hell didn’t I just stay quiet? I debate begging him not to cut me up into tiny pieces, but men like him enjoy begging. I stay quiet. This seems to tick sir off cause he comes up to me, a thin skinny knife in hand.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you scream.” he grins at me, and dread pools in my core. I’m not going to die, not yet. No, he’ll make sure I last, till every drop of blood has left my body, and I’m unidentifiable.
“The police will find me.” I force out and Sir actually laughs, a terrifying sound I must admit. This man is insane, completely delusional.
“The police has already found you.” My brows furrow and sir chuckles slightly, caressing the swollen and red side of my face.
“How young and naive you are to think somebody would go through such lengths just to save you.” I try not to flinch at the words, but they hurt all the same. Who would save me? No one, that’s who. Hazel would, Hazel would fight unto the end of the earth for me if she could. But she can barely get out of bed.
“What do you mean, they have already found me?” I can’t keep from asking, and Sir shrugs as if the answer is obvious.
“There are a lot of brown-haired and green-eyed girls out there, it wasn’t hard to find one. Rather, one was right next to the train station walking home. She looked just like you.” I stare at him wide-eyed and in horror. He killed an innocent girl just to have me?
“They will test her DNA.” I spit out, trying to act like he doesn’t scare me down to my bones. Sir only shrugs again.
“By the time they get around to that, you’ll already be dead.” He grins and brings the knife down along my stomach.
2:19 pm.
That’s when the screaming starts.
Again.
~~~~Esmond
They pronounced the body as Sloane's and she was declared the savior of the train station slaughter. A title is meaningless, it doesn’t bring the brave and talented girl back. Just another obituary.
“Esmond, you need to eat.” My mother says, concern creasing her brows. She hasn’t left my side since I got back. A week ago. It has been a week since Sloane...died, since that crazy psycho destroyed our lives. I gingerly pick at my sandwich, but my stomach rejects any bit of food I should swallow. Mom lingers in my room and I let out a sigh.
“What news do you have?” Mom wrings her hands together and dread pools in my stomach because I know this must be bad news.
“Sloane's funeral is today, at 9 am. Her parents want you to come.” My heart twists, I failed her. I should have saved her. Mother gives me a pleading stare and I reluctantly nod.
“Ok.” Mom smiles slightly and leaves, I force my feet to move to my closet. Find a shirt, good, now find a pair of pants, ok, now put them on. I walk myself through the motions and try to act like I am alright. That I am still alive when inside I feel like I’m slowly decaying.
Sloane went out with a bang, the least I could do is show up at her funeral.
~~~~~
“Mr. Maddox, will you please come up and say a few words?” Oh no, nuh-uh, I did not sign up for this. But, Sloane’s parents are teary-eyed and staring at me with warbling encouraging smiles on their faces. I owe them this much, hell, I owe them everything for what Sloane did for me. Gingerly, I stand up and stiffly walk to the podium.
“I-I, uh, I’m Esmond Maddox and I wasn’t exactly a friend of Sloane’s.” People look at each other, seeming to wonder why I’m even here. I notice a boy upfront, who Sloane stuck with like glue at school. His eyes are red and swollen. Take a deep breath, you can say a few words.
“I didn’t know her well, but she risked everything to make sure I survived. Hell, she spat in death’s eye more than once to save someone other than herself.” Sloane's mother smiles slightly but grips her husband’s hand for dear life.
“She was the most impulsive, hotheaded, talented, and the bravest girl I have ever met. I will always be grateful for what she did. I-” my voice clogs and I have to swallow a few times before I am able to speak. My throat burns and my eyes glisten with tears.
“I owe her everything, and I know I didn’t know her as well as most of you, but I will miss her just as much.” I quickly rush off the stage after saying a quick thank you, and I don’t look at anyone as I rush outside.
Breathe, Esmond. Breathe!
My lungs seize and my stomach swirls with nausea. I didn’t know her very well, so why am I feeling so attached to her? With a deep breath, I get in my car and just drive, anywhere. Losing her shouldn’t be bothering me as much as it is. I speed along back roads and park the car in a field of daisies, resting my head against the steering wheel.
“What am I going to do?” I groan and force myself out of the car. I can’t do this anymore. Faking that I’m alright, I witnessed people dying. Sloane died for people she didn’t even know, she died to get us all out. I should be happy that I’m alive. But I feel guilty every time I feel something that is not dread or revulsion at myself for still living.
My eyes catch sight of a silver van and my brows tug together. Wait-what? I’m not normally one to judge but a silver van in the woods can’t get any more sketchy. Maybe that is where Sir is hiding. Anger and revenge fill me and I grab the knife Sloane gave me when she stole it from Sir. yes, I kept it. I stalk towards the van and creep along the outside. He has to be here. I fling open the doors but find no psycho masked man, but rather duck tape, a few knives, and a camera. I take a picture of the van to show the police afterward. I snatch a knife. He has to be around here somewhere. I notice the tracks on the ground and hope flutters in my chest. Maybe Sloane isn’t dead. Maybe Sir brought her over here. I shake my head, no, they found her body. Of course, she is not still alive. I start hunting the tracks. If I find Sir, I know that I will kill him.
I won’t let him hurt anyone else.
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