Note - Hi Guys. Wow thanks for the support didn't really expect it so quickly, but to repay you I have written another chapter. For the rest of the story I shall write from different characters viewpoints. Sorry for any spam you may have got from me trying to upload this. And for those asking as to characters mortality you will have to wait to see what my mind decides as I have two ways this story may go.

Many thanks.

This is Chloe's perception.


You had spent the weekend at your Grandparents house. You thus miss the fortnightly non-rehearsal meeting of the Bellas. By the time you arrive back at your dorm in the late afternoon you collapse onto your bed noting the distinct lack of your only roommate Aubrey.

You are woken again by a vague noise on your desk and stand up to collect your phone. In your groggy half-awake state you smile down at the phone when you notice you have several missed calls from Beca. You had smiled at the normally distant girls' sudden apparent clinginess. You grab a glass of water from the sink and start to head back towards your bed before you feel your phone vibrate in your hand. Noticing that it is again the small girl you answer ready to remark on her seemingly 'immediate need for you'.


And then it comes.

Instead of the voice you had expected to hear the voice that crackles through the line isn't that of Beca.

Nor that of anyone you recognise.

It is that of a tired and concerned middle aged woman. You bite your words immediately and listen.

Although in some ways you wished you hadn't.

In some ways you wished you were still asleep or at your Grandparents. But in the moment that it mattered you aren't; you're standing half dressed in your dorm when you hear that Beca has been hit. For the sweetest instant its all not true. You are only brought round when you hear the glass you had been holding smash against the floor and you run from the building not caring that you lack trousers or shoes.


The streets are cold and much darker than they had been when you had arrived home. You try to figure why it was you that had been called and not her father. You vaguely remember one drunken night Beca telling you she had entered you as her emergency contact in her phone as you knew more about her than him. Although even that memory is now distorted along with your other senses by the painful beating of your heart in your ribcage. You notice that little voice in the back of your head dismissing the whole event to dreamland and you further try to ignore the looming sense of doom now encroaching upon the whole situation.

Beca is only short.

Beca is only thin.

Beca is entirely breakable.

Beca is completely alone right now.

Beca may be…

may be…

You feel hot tears stream down your cheeks and instead you try to focus on the road ahead. Its blurry despite the crisp nature of the evening as your head swims with what has only been five minutes of possibilities.

In an flash the scene enters your vision although its far worse than you had imagined.

You notice the tape surrounding the scene and the police trying to control the mounting crowd. For a moment its like watching a grisly scene in a movie.

But only for a moment.

Your senses kick in. The voices of the paramedics, the flashing of the ambulance lights, and then the sight of a small and battered body on the ground.

You try not to take in her body. The way in which it is sprawled, one shoe missing. Her jeans and shirt ripped and her hair slowly matting. You try not to notice strange angle of her spine. Or how her arms are splayed. How her face is pressed against the floor, on one side, facing away from you. And you especially try not to notice the pool of deep red blood beneath her, coagulating at the edges.

But of course you do.

And you freeze.

You see all this and a terrified scream leaves your mouth before you have even noticed that it has formed.

You try and rush the cordon.

This only results in the police holding you back. You shout at them. You desperately cry out her name. At one point you even try to slap one of them. And then somehow you're through the barrier.

You turn towards her. By this point her head has been braced, her body laid on her back and you note the requirement for intubation.

You run at her again.

You stop only when you have finally reach her.

You bend down and reach out, touching her face and for a bittersweet second you swear you see her eyes flicker in recognition.

You almost let yourself breathe again.

You almost think its going to be okay, that maybe she'll survive this.

Almost.

And then just as quickly as that flicker came it is gone.

You see her chest rise but you don't see it fall.

You see as her body buck upwards at the middle and then sharply down again.

You watch as her body repeats the motion several times over before you are dragged away again screaming, reaching out for her, desperate to stay by her side.

You don't quite hear it however, instead your hearing is washed out and not quite in time with the reality of the situation. You feel your head spin again. You look at her one last time and watch as her eyes glaze further, blood seeping out of her mouth bubbling around the intubation pipe as she is whisked away in the ambulance.

You let that sense of doom wash over you and a wave of emotion hits you. All hope you had felt in that bittersweet moment has left along with the small girl. You try and catch your breath as your chest constricts and you feel as if your heart misses a beat. You don't notice however when unconsciousness seizes you.