I abruptly stop in my tracks once I know they’re not running after me. I’m safe. A tang of guilt washes over me like a big tidal wave. I’ve just let them die. I ran away from the one family who treated me as if I was their own, and I let them die. I feel like such a
Coward. One minute we were eating roast chicken and opening each other’s presents by the Christmas tree. The next minute two men have bombarded the scene with
knives and telling all of us to get into the kitchen of which they did, but I didn’t. I hit, then ran as fast as I could, trying to get as far away from them as possible. I panicked just as much as anyone would because I
Didn’t want to die, no one wants to die. But now I come to think of it I remember,
Eliza, my Best Friend. She went to her room to get her presents, she may have not been killed. What type of?
Lunatic are you, of course she was killed, once she’d come out of her room they would of killed her. Sometimes I hate how my “subconscious “can—most of the time—always be
right. What was I thinking of course she’s dead they would’ve seen her. But I need to
at least have a little hope, because that is what it is going to take if I don’t want to crumble down, feeling like my world is At an end, because I can tell right now it really is.
I head down to the beach to clear my head from all this mess, but all I find when I go down there is those men again. So I hide in a bush so I know what they’re up to.
‘So what did you think of that pathetic girl that was yelling at us?’
‘Uh, I think she forgot to wake up Antarctica’
Seriously these guys are jokes. Then I hear a quiet, but stern voice behind me.
‘If you guys are finished mucking around like headless chooks, we better get down to business.’
‘Oh, yes of course, boss
‘DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?’
‘Yes, we murdered the Mire family, just as you had asked.’ Wait, that’s Eliza's family, they’re talking about her.
‘YOU ONLY MURDERED TWO OF THEM, NOT FOUR OF THEM!’
‘But there was only three there at the time, her father wasn't there at all.’
‘WHAT ABOUT THE GIRL THAT WAS YOUR MISSION. TO KILL HER!’
‘Sorry boss, no need to yell.’
‘I CAN DO WHAT I LIKE, THANKYOU VERY MUCH AND IF YOU THINK A SIMPLE
SORRY IS GOING TO FIX THIS YOUR VERY MISTAKEN. NOW, GET OUT OF MY
SIGHT BEFORE I KILL YOU TWO AND GO AND KILL THE GIRL, INCLUDING THAT BOY!’
What does he mean “that boy”, does he mean me. As if the man was reading is mind he continues talking.
‘And in case YOU don’t know what he looks like I’ll show you a
Photo of him.’
He walks over to the two guys and pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, as he unfolds the parchment, I see a glimpse of the photo. A photo of me. It’s one of my school photos that was taken a few days ago, I have my navy blue and white uniform, my blonde hair styled to look slightly wavy and my bright blue eyes that stand out so much, it’s hard to miss. I guess Eliza isn't the only one that should be worried now.
‘So, now you know what both of them look like, go and kill them.’
‘What about the Dad boss?’
‘Uhhh…..on second thought just bring the kids to me’
‘And the Dad’
‘JUST…….forget about the Dad, ok?’
‘Now it would be nice if you two would GET OUT OF MY SITE!’
‘Ok, ok, geez.’
Now I know what there up to. For someone reason they are
Planning to hunt Eliza and me down like a pack of wolves, we are then taken to that crazy man which will lead us to our death. That is not the path I am going to choose. Now I know Eliza’s alive, I need to find her and tell her what they are up to, because both of our lives are a stake and I don’t want to be the reason for Eliza’s death. As soon as I see that the men are far from the beach I slowly move
Myself out of the bush, removing any twigs that may have caught in my hair or my clothes, which are now ripped thanks to that very prickly bush. I start to walk towards Eliza’s house hoping that she’ll still be there, but as soon as I walk in the door, no one’s there. No traces of blood or Oliver or Abigail, not even
Eliza. I go and check in all the rooms. When I come to Eliza’s room I see a dark silhouette of a figure crying. When I start to walk over to her, she looks up. I stop in my tracks, Eliza?
‘Eliza, is that you?’
Comments (1)
See all