Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Is this happening?"
"I guess so." Jack's fur bristled, hackles raised. Caroline unsheathed her claws. "then let's play."
Leaping at the Cat who stole her mother, she slashed at his cheek, leaving a large cut that would surely scar.
"You piece of-" Caroline didn't wait for him to finish; she leapt for his throat, and bit down, hard.
"Die now!" She snarled against his throat, biting through muscle and then bone, snapping his neck. She pulled back, gasping. "You-you should have never touched my mother."
That was three years ago. Now I'm 20, and I don't have anything to do with my life. "Hey, Caroline!" One of my "friends" called out to me. I know that they're all liars; everyone is. I know so. Everyone I've ever known except my mother was a liar and a cheat.
"Yea, Gwennie?" I yelled back to her, "you need something?"
"Want to go out to the club tonight?" I walked over to her, "No thanks; not my kind of crowd." Bunch of drunk cats trying to catch a good time, and all the stupid male toms? No thanks.
"Please Carol? You never go anywhere!" I shook my head.
"I'm sorry," I wasn't. "but I don't like clubs, too many cats, sorry. I need to work on my novel." Gwennie rolled her eyes.
"Of course. You're such an introvert, Carol! Fine, but, we'll bring you back a guy's phone number; and make sure he has an Iphone." What did an Iphone have to do with anything? Oh well. It won't matter, I'd never call him anyway.
"Okay," I rolled my eyes. "see ya, Gwennie." I only came out to get food, how'd I get tangled into this mess? I continue grocery shopping, and then leave. "thank God I'm out of there," I mutter. "too many people."
How I spend my days: working on books, and eating junk food. But I have such a high metabolism, that if I go anywhere, I have to eat. Or I'll be hungry. You think it's fun? Try having to eat constantly, basically every second of the day. It's not fun.
"Time to work on my novel." Or novella, it doesn't really matter - it's more of a novella, though, "The Sunny Hollow Massacre" It's a horror/thriller novella, and I think it's going great.
I start to type with my claws, lightly tapping the keys so not to murder my laptop. "Hmm," I'm on my second draft of the story, so I'm just going over it right now, editing.
"Is it worth it?" I wonder sometimes; over a year of hard work, what if this doesn't get any attention? My parents are helping me until I publish my first book, then I'm on my own, so hopefully it's a big hit.
"Shoot," I whisper, "too many mistakes; so much to change." I grab a Dorito bag and tear it open, before grabbing one of the amazing cool ranch Doritos. "mm, Doritos make everything better."
It was true; when I had no inspiration, Doritos helped. I read over what I have, reading it quietly aloud, I try not to wake my parents up. My dad isn't around much, so whenever he's home, I try to be quiet, plus it's 3AM.
"Sally shook her head, "Surely we'll be fine, the killer isn't coming this way. I want to know how no one knows who just completely decimated whole towns, I mean, it can't be hard to find evidence with everything?" Rosie looked down, "But, the news-"
"The news doesn't know everything, you know that, Rosie! They're assuming things." A tear slid down Rosie's face.
"I'm just scared, with Sunny Hollow's history and all," She whispered.
"I'm sure everything will be fine, Rosie! You'll see." There was a killer running loose around Sunny Hollow, which made this much worse. Of course, when moving here, we didn't check up on the place to see it's crime rate. Suddenly, a gunshot rang outside.
"L-let's hide, Sally." Rosie was shaking. For her sake, I agreed.
"Okay, let's hide in the basement. That way if someone does come in, they have no place to hide and snipe us." That scared her even more, she literally ran down the stairs into the basement of our small house. I quickly grabbed the revolver from next to my bedside table, and sprinted out of the room, carefully scanning the hall. "No one. Good." Suddenly, Rosie let out a ear-piercing scream.
"RUN!" She yelled, before a couple gun-shots rang through the once quiet house; screaming came from outside, and more gunshots were fired. "No…" I whisper, "Rosie?" I came face to face with a masked man as I turned around a hallway corner, and I let out a scream, ducking as he tried to shoot me with a sawed off shot-gun. I raised up my revolver, and shot him, he slumped to the floor, and I was left shaking and alone. I got on my stomach and army crawled to look around the corner, and I saw the un-moving figure of Rosie, and I let out a quiet whimper, "R-rosie?" I crawl closer to her, and notice she's been shot in the head and chest; dead on the first shot. Tears streamed down my face.
"Rosie!" I let out a pained wail, shaking her, even though I knew she was already dead. I had to get out of here. More gunshots rang out, and the screaming quieted. Was it over? I slunk down stairs, and hid in the basement with the door locked, and the lights dimmed, (for I was very scared of the dark,) for only God knows how long.
Whispering, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Rosie," I stood up, and shut my eyes tightly, letting more tears slip from my eyes. I had to stay alive, be a witness, for now. As soon as it's all over… I didn't want to think anymore.
"I just want this to be all a nightmare… A sick… S-sick nightmare." I sobbed, hugging myself tightly.
Is it safe? I hear nothing. Suddenly, police sirens come from outside.
The front door was kicked open, I could hear it. "Hello? Anyone here? Aye, I don't think anyone survived, just like all the others."
I open up the door tentavively, "W-wait." I whisper, "I'm here." I slink up the stairs to the basement, and clutch my revolver in my hand - just in case.
"I think I heard something, George." One of the possible police officers said.
"I did too… Is anyone there?" I coughed, and appeared at the top of the steps.
"Y-yes." My voice was raspy from crying, and I looked terrible, but I was alive. "My friend is dead, and I killed… I killed one of the… The men." I whisper.
"Come, let's get you the help you need," George wrapped an arm around me, "make sure you're not hurt, and whatnot." I nodded weakly, and numbly walked down my front steps to the police car; it's funny how they didn't bother to bring a ambulance, like they knew nobody would be alive. I thought Canada was safe; apparently not. Maybe Rosie and I should've stayed in Texas; it was boring, but no one died of shootings in our town! I need to stay strong for poor Rosie; I can feel her watching… Hopefully she isn't stuck in this God-foresaken house…"
I sigh, "It's finished, thank god. Carol Author; heh. It's like life knew I was going to be an author." I save my story in Wordpad, and then shut my laptop down. It was 5AM now. "I need sleep. Ugh…" I turn over and plug my headphones in, while falling asleep. "I'm so tired…" Eventually I fell asleep to "Car Radio" by Twenty One Pilots. To another day of writing, and being an anti-social introvert.