SO I was planning on writing and publishing this chapter much sooner than it's ended up being, however I couldn't. Long story short, I got an ending in my head that wouldn't go away and every time I tried to write this chapter, it ended up going in the favour of said ending - which I don't actually want. So I've put off writing any more of it until today. Then today, having came home from a busy day at work, I went upstairs to discover that my lovely snake had died. Which kinda - for lack of better words - pissed me off. So I ended up writing. (Well I say that, this A/N is being written before the actual chapter, so I guess we'll just have to see how it goes). Okay? Okay.
I also apologise for how short this chapter is and for the fact it's not the most coherent - I was hoping for it to be more Callie's mindset than anything else, but I don't believe that that would be very... clear, right about now...
As always, if you like it, please favourite, follow or review! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Callie should have known better than to step inside that house. Then again, she should have known better than to do at lot of things. In fact, the list of things she should have known better than to do was ridiculously long these days. But the point still stood - she shouldn't have entered the house.
But she did, and now she was paying for her choice.
Her head hurt from where he'd hit her over the head with something heavy. She wasn't entirely sure what he'd used, but the loud THWACK! that had resonated through her skull certainly hadn't sounded great. As she'd fallen to her knees, a wave of dizziness overloading her other senses, she'd felt him hit her again, and again. He never gave her a chance to defend herself.
But of course, that wasn't enough. She'd disobeyed him, failing to listen to his so-called advice, and for that she had to pay. Her vision blurry, she'd been unable to resist as he'd dragged her through the house and outside into the shabby, unkept backyard. There, he'd shoved her into the small potting shed, not unlike the one she'd originally hidden Jim's body in. The difference, however, was that this one wasn't rotten, this one had a large, shiny padlock on the outside of it. A nice shiny padlock that had been closed, the key thrown away, the minute she was shoved through the door. But of course, that still wasn't punishment enough.
She couldn't breathe, the smoke from the fire forcing its way down her throat and settling in her lungs. She wanted to cry out, to scream, yet all she uttered was a small, pathetic whimper. This was it. She was going to die. She was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it. She was going to die and leave Jude all alone.
But hadn't she already done that? Hadn't she, by slipping away the night before, essentially abandoned Jude and signed her own death warranty. Was this her comeuppance for doing so? Fate's final laugh?
Tears trailed down her cheeks as she continued to choke. There was no way out, she knew that, she just wished she'd taken the opportunity to say goodbye to her brother.
She was leaving him without a word. He'd end up getting a visit from the cops, accompanied by Bill, much like the one they'd received when their mother had died - except this time she wouldn't be there to comfort him. Instead of being able to take away his pain, she'd be adding to it. Hopefully he'd understand why she'd done what she had, but there was always the chance he'd hate her.
She drew a sharp breath at the thought of him hating her, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to stand such a thing. Then again, who says she'd have to- she'd be dead by then.
