Note: There are some fragment sentences, and other grammar errors that I put in purposely to fit the characters' thought process. If they don't fit, let me know and I'll stop using them. Other than that, read on. I'll write some more at the bottom.
The Power of Murder
It seemed like forever until Seth whispered "We need a plan," but it was just enough to startle them back into horror-stricken realities. After rolling Trey off of himself, Ryan immediately got up and backed away into the opposite corner from the others. The others watched him with wide eyes like the Zombies Seth so liked in his bad horror movies. It was obvious Trey was dead, and it was just as obvious they were screwed. There was blood on the carpet, and by now it would be through the carpet into the floor.
"Well Chino…..if there was one of us who knew…what to do with…well…it's be you." There she'd said it. She'd been waiting to say it since she'd arrived, and truth be told she'd been prepared to say it on the way over in case Ryan had gotten out of hand. It had been one of those things you think of when you know your life's at the brink of something terrible happening and you know it's all your fault. You think of the wild scenarios that never happen in real life and you formulate a response to it so just in case it does happen, you know what to say and what to do. She should of known though, she thinks, because the last time (or the second to last time, as she refuses to remember last summer, staying awake at night waiting to hear the Cohen's call to say the coast guard found Seth's body washed up on Tahiti's shore)…the last time she formulated all the what-to-dos, the worst one she could think of came true. Eight years old she'd told her mother on the way to school she didn't like daddy's new friend, and her mother had stopped the car and grilled her. And all through school she'd thought of the what-ifs…what if mommy is drunk when I get home, and daddy isn't there. What do I do?…What if it's the other way around?…What if-
"Damnit Summer, just because I grew up in Chino, DOESN'T MEAN I EVER MURDERED ANYONE BEFORE!" And then much softer he said, "it's my fucking brother." Summer just stared. Belatedly he realized that perhaps she didn't even know he was dead. She hadn't been the one held under Trey who felt his chest slow down to a stop.
"No one was murdered," Marissa said before cringing. Why did everything she say lately, have to come out sounding like a question? And wait…why the fuck was no one backing her up! "GUYS," she shouted at the top of her lungs. And then…Oh God. Was that knocking at the door?
The next morning Ryan woke-up to something decidedly more comfortable than a pillow. In fact, it seemed to be a naked woman. In an unfamiliar, tiny bed in…Ryan sat up and braced his aching head, before facing the direction of the sun, and opening his eyes. In…another city. Without turning his head, he placed his hand in the approximate location he supposed the unremembered woman's face would be. It came up short. "Must not be Marissa," he thought, and he was surprised at how little he cared either way, even if he was hung over. He drifted his arm further down upon the bed. Jackpot. The woman seemed to have long glossy hair and- her eyes were opened. His whole body jerked upon turning his head.
Before falling off, he had time to mutter just one word. "SUMMER!" And then all went blissfully dark.
Me: So what do you guys all think? Does it deserve to be continued? Clicky-clicky. There's no such thing as bad feedback, only constructive criticism that helps make me make my writing better. Oh, and I plan on updating soon (possibly tonight, which would be funny cause it would be beforethe storywas even available for most people to read), but reviews are inspiration for the thought process, so don't be afraid to say what you don't like, or make guesses!