April 11, 2010

The smell of a soggy, soiled carpet battled for dominance against the smell of fresh coffee within the atmosphere of the sheriff's station in downtown Seattle. My feet stumbled against the stained carpet as an officer escorted me through the office with my arms handcuffed. The process was over, questioning was done. I was in the clear. This whole use of handcuffs was unnecessary, ridiculous, and humiliating; but that's how he wanted it to be. He wanted me to feel embarrassed and scared. He wanted me to 'learn a lesson.' The only lesson that I've learned is that sometimes I can have the shittiest luck. Out of all of the patrol cars that prowled the area I was in, it had to be from one of my mom's long time friends, Vincent Corbin.

Vincent guided my arm in front of him in a rather rough manner. He pointed to the chair and stated: "Take a seat here. Your mother will be here to pick you up soon."

I remained quiet, causing the cold plastic chair to squeak when I rested my weight against it in a rather aggressive motion. My eyes remained glued to the floor, refusing to give the officer any kind of engagement to the conversation like he expected me to. Out of habit, my hand made it's way to my forehead to swipe my bangs to the side. I visibly flinched when the palm of my hand brushed against my freshly bruised cheek.

Vincent broke the silence between us with a sigh of defeat and tossed a box of kleenex on top of my lap. "You'd best wipe the blood off your nose before your mom sees it. Even though she would probably say that you'd deserve it, it's not a good look." He cleared his throat and straightened his back, returning back to his 'bad cop' side. "Next time you even think about pulling a stunt like that again, you'll receive something far worse than a little nosebleed. You hear me?" I tried to remain quiet, I tried to hold back so that I wouldn't make the situation worse which was probably the best decision I've made tonight — but it was just too much when Officer Dickhead continued to push my buttons and said: "Are you deaf? I'm talking to you. What were you thinking running from an officer?"

My glared eyes rose to meet his similar scowl, "I figured if you could lose track of your head of hair, I had a chance."

The officer shifted his weight uncomfortably, placing one hand on his hip and the other to point at me sternly. "Listen up, pipsqueek. Your mother and I have been friends since before you were even born. I am more than happy to throw away that friendship to see how long you and that lesbian haircut of yours lasts in juvie. So keep it up, please. Do me that favor."

"Remind me again what kind of relationshipsorry, 'friendship', you two have? You guys seem to spend a lot of late nights together."

Before he could unload his wrath upon me, everyone's attention shot towards the entrance when the double doors slammed open. Two officers held tightly onto each of a girl's arms as she kicked and wiggled for freedom. She wasn't in handcuffs, but it was more than obvious that the two police officers had no intention of letting her out of their sights. Vincent cursed under his breath and shot a warning in my direction. "Don't even think that we're done here."

My eyebrow raised in thought. The officer who was previously scolding me, marched over to the girl who just arrived. Compared to his interactions with me, his body language softened in a rather comforting manner. Was this another one of his "friends"? If so, she was definitely not happy to see him. I also noted how young she looked, despite appearing so mature. Judging by the way that she carried herself, how she spoke to the officer, the fear hidden behind her dark eyes, she was probably about my age. She reminded me of Snow White. Her face was softly pale, causing her black eye shadow and crimson lips to stand out; making it the first thing one would notice. She wore her hair long, tied up into a high ponytail with both of the sides buzzed off. I admired her appearance, snapping back to reality when I realized the girl was making her way over here.

Vincent now stood left behind in her trail, frustrated with the look of defeat plastered on his face. The dark haired girl carried on in a fit of tears. She was so wrapped into herself that she didn't even notice my presence until she was about five feet in front of me. She stopped abruptly and, quite literally, snapped back into reality. First, she appeared surprised only to lower her expression down into an aggravated glare. She ripped the chair next to me away and dropped it right against the desk on the other side, sitting down with her back facing toward me.

A few minutes pass of silence between us with an occasional sniffle from her. Curiosity overtook my actions, and I commented:"Nice hair."

She remained quiet.

My eyes narrowed in frustration, attempting a conversation once more. "So, are you here because you're in trouble or are you another one of that bald-headed bastard's girlfriends?"

The girl simply snorted, disregarding my question. She replied with a question of her own, "Are you the convict that punched my dad's face?"

I blinked. Dad?

My head shook to the sides, I replied, "I'm not a convict, just a person in the wrong place at the wrong time. Regardless of these handcuffs." Seems like the story of my life. "But, yeah. I did."

"He deserved it. So...thanks."

The conversation could have ended there, but I decided to continue it. "My name's Rosy. What about you?"

The raven haired girl turned around to face me. This close, I could see how red and puffy her eyes were. She looked hesitant to speak, but seemed to overcome the doubt. "Elizabeth, but call me Lizzy."

The engine of my Jeep roared as I shifted through the gears with the gas pedal floored. I raced passed traffic lights milliseconds after it turned red, still managing to be careful to notice the absence of cars as I approached. Nearly every traffic law was broken as I raced to Lizzy's house. A slight part of a me was surprised that my car was never pulled over. I kept my breathing shallow and calm to maintain concentration, but my heartbeat fluttered nevertheless. It was difficult enough to corner every turn without losing too much speed or crashing; but on top of that, the wind began to pick up. A big storm was approaching, and nature reminded me of it every time I felt my car shift slightly out of my control.

Lizzy bolted from her front door the moment she saw my headlights approaching the house. Her hands were trembling and tears rolled down her face, but she was okay, and that was what mattered the most. I wanted to let out a sigh of relief when she told me that she hasn't heard or seen the intruder since she called the police, but that sigh was never released. There was still a chance that he was still in there. I decided not to scare her with that possibility. Instead, I suggested returning back into the house to avoid the rain that was beginning to intertwine with the incessant wind. When Lizzy wasn't looking, I quickly retrieved my hunting knife from the glove compartment. She was a bit hesitant to return to the house, but she felt safer next to me, she confessed.

I walked cautiously through Lizzy's one story house as her hands hovered over my arm as a way to keep me close. Despite feeling safer with my presence, she kept insisting that we should wait outside for the police to arrive. There will never be a day when I will admit to her that her suggestion was a safer alternative, I'll never admit my true motive. Even though I told Lizzy that her ex-boyfriend was gone and that I was just trying to see where he came in from, the truth was that I was truly hoping to encounter him. He deserved all the pain that I would bring to him, just like the pain he had brought to my closest friend.

The wind that howled softly in the background began to rise, causing the slight pitter-patter of the rain to evolve into solid knocks that crashed against the windows. My attention rose above my head when the lights began to flicker until the inevitable darkness punched the lights out. A soft thud came from somewhere in the house, presumably close to the kitchen. My gaze snapped to Lizzy.

"Where's your dad's guns?" I spoke with my voice low and cautious.

Lizzy's eyes were filled with worry. "After I came back from the hospital, he put several locks on his weapon casket. I can't get in."

I cursed under my breath.

"Shit." My fingertips met with the warm liquid running down my nose. Lizzy, noticing the unwelcomed crimson, reached for the tissue box on her father's desk and tossed it at me. I thanked her, patting down on the blood. Her head tilted slightly as she looked over my nose. I could tell what she was thinking. "Complimentary of your dad." I confirmed.

Lizzy smiled weakly. "It could have been worse, trust me." Her voice was comforting, but I couldn't help but notice that there was a hint of customary behind that smile. Before I had the chance to address it, she changed the subject. "So were you working on an art piece when he found you?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Lizzy quickly added, "You tagged the side of a building, right? Were you working on something or…?"

I scoffed. "If that was the case, at least I would have had a decent reason to be there. Long story short: I was trying to save a longtime friendship by looking after this particular friend at a party. She left me with one of her party buddies. He was trying to impress me with his art work on that building, and that's when Mr. Authority shined his light on us. Obviously this guy had experience running from the police because he was never found. I wasn't so lucky."

"And that's when you told my dad to 'fuck off' and nailed him in the face?"

More so because I was scared and punching is usually my initial reaction. But I didn't say that. I agreed anyways, "Exactly. Anyways, what about you? Why are you here?"

As if reminding her of her current location, Lizzy's eyes lowered back down as she turned her head away in embarrassment. "I came out to my parents the other night. Dad was angry, mom began to cry, so I figured that they would be happier if I just left."

The conversation volume dialed down to zero when Lizzy took notice of what was behind me. Without thinking, I turned my head. Officer Jackass prowled down the walkway accompanied by the woman herself, my mom. I wanted to act tough, I wanted to show that I didn't care, but that entire thought process flew out the window when my lips let out a "God damn it."

My mother stood before me with her arms crossed while Vincent took off my handcuffs. Her dark brown hair was neatly pushed to the side, tied together by a rubber band. "Don't damn God, you'll be praying to him once I'm done with you."

As an attempt to redeem my attitude, I rolled my eyes and replied: "Then I guess I'll be praying to nothing."

Vincent's expression hardened, taking offense to that comment. While I took notice of Lizzy's slight smirk, my mom took charge before Vincent could begin his rant. She yanked me out of the chair by my hand, "Let's go. Now." She gave her friend one last look and said, "Thank you again Vince, I owe you once again," before dragging me out of the police station.

It was an unusually cold night in Seattle. Despite being surrounded by humidity given by the ocean, the temperature lowered to close to 30 degrees Fahrenheit. I pulled my hood over as an attempt to shield myself from the chilling mist that fell. The street we walked down was empty and quiet. The only salvation of noise was the sound of traffic in the distance. The silence between myself and my mother was a blessing, but it was only temporary. The longer she was quiet, the more she strategically planned out her punishment for me at home. I didn't want to start anything, I really didn't want to begin the argument; but I knew if I wanted her to forgive me, I would have to open Pandora's Box now. If she was truly my mother, then she would do the same thing as I do: completely explode now so that when we got home, she could calm down.

I took a breath, "Look, it's not what you think-"

Just like tapping a crack on a window, my mom shattered and unrolled all of her pent-up thoughts. She began with, "No, I think it's worse than what I think." I allowed her to vent and for the most part, I deserved it. So I kept quiet.

Once we made it to the car, I stood right next to the door, waiting until she realized she needed to unlock it. All in the meantime, I took one mental slap after another.

"I didn't raise you this way!"

"You're turning into your brother!"
"Why has God given me such difficult children!"

And the list goes on.

My tread was light and silent as I prowled through to the kitchen, holding my hunting knife up and ready. The house shifted and creaked against the incessant howling wind. Lizzy tiptoed close to my side, aware of every single sound. We made our way to the kitchen, but there was nothing there. My body eased up, and I lowered the knife. "Damn wind, it's messing with us," I chuckled awkwardly.

"And the electricity." Lizzy added quietly and looked down at her phone.

I leaned against the sink countertop. The only source of light came from the window behind me. "It's fine, we'll light up some candles while we wait for the police." Lizzy nodded her head in agreement, raising her head up at me. "It shouldn't be too long—"

"—Rosy." She cut in, her gaze slowly rising above my head as they widened with fear. She whispered, "He's behind you."

In the reflection of the painting across the kitchen, I watched a shadow emerge upwards behind my silhouette. The shadow of a man towered over me, looking down at us with his head tilted, and these… things that came from his back danced in the wind. My heartbeat pounded against my chest as I felt a wave of fear wash over me. The man was tall, impossibly tall, nearly nine foot impossibly tall. Unless Elizabeth's ex decided to buy stilts, this was a complete stranger. A real threat. My body snapped around to face the man, but what my gaze met was branches of a tree bouncing with the wind current.

"It's just a tree, Liz." I sighed deeply, calming my beating heart. I mean….I guess that can be mistaken for a tall man; but even to myself, I couldn't be convinced.

"N-no! It's not the tree! He was just there."

Before I could respond, my heart jumped to my throat when a sound came from the living room. The window had just shattered.

Just as my mother broke open the cage of her raging emotions, I had done the same when she screamed: "Why do you have to be like this! Why do you have to fight authority all the time! If you have problems, talk to me! I have always been there for you!"

"You've been always been there for me?!" I laughed. And I snapped, just like that. Only in my case, I have not, nor will I ever get over this issue. These pent up feelings has been brewing for a very long time. "Since when! The last time I can remember you acting like an actual mother to me is when I was fourteen! But once Liam left high school and got involved with that gang, you've been absent from my life! You were busy trying so hard to keep that leash on Liam tight!"

My mom took a step backwards as if I had just slapped her in the face. She mumbled, "That's not true…"

"The hell it isn't!" I screamed. "All those straight A's I got in freshman and sophomore year meant shit! You and dad were constantly worrying about Liam, you forgot you even had a daughter!" I should be crying. These last few years, I have felt neglected and alienated from my own family. With all of this buried deep inside, only to be let out like right here and now, I should be balling. But I'm not going to. Right now, the anger I feel towards her refuses to let any other emotion show right now, other than rage.

My mother attempted to lower her hurt expressions to stern. "Your father and I are doing the best we can. If you were a parent, you would under-"

I didn't let her finish. "And that's the worst part." My voice lowered and I began to smile. "You are doing your best. What a shame it is for me that all your best goes towards my brother." I turned away, beginning to storm down the street. "I'm taking the bus to a friend's. I'll see you later."

As I began to walk down, it only took a couple seconds for my mom to recollect her thoughts and pick up that parental badge I slapped out her hands. "No you are not. We are leaving together and going straight home."

I ignored her, extending the distance between us.

"Rosanna McKinley! I'm not going to chase you down! I will leave without you! Get over here now!" My mom threatened. Once she realized that I truly wasn't returning, she jogged down the street after me.

I pressed my index finger against my lips. Lizzy nodded in understanding, continuing to trail behind me. I carefully walked into the living room. Once again, the room was vacant, but covered in broken glass. My eyes narrowed when I saw a stone brick lying within the glass.

Lizzy noticed the stone as well. She whispered, rubbing her arms for comfort. "He's still here."

I placed my hand on her shoulder for reassurance. "He's just trying to scare you. Don't let him." My attention glided over to the glass cabinet next to Lizzy. Behind the glass doors was a pistol showcased on a gold mantle. I pointed at it, "Please tell me that works."

She shook her head. "It hasn't worked in a very long time. That was the first pistol my dad bought when he was younger; it's just an antique now."

"Here." I said, handing over my hunting knife to her. She could probably use it more than me right now, even if it will only make her feel a fraction safer.

I was able to make it all the way down the intersection where 3rd Avenue met Yesler Way. To my right, there was the bus platform I needed with a bus pulling up to the curb. By how late it was, it was the last bus of the night, I assumed. My attention was pulled away when my mom grabbed onto my jacket..

"I said you're not leaving." She growled.

I pulled my arm back. Before the argument could continue, our attention was redirected to the small park across the street. The park was nearly pitch black, the most I could see was a silhouette of a man and woman. They were arguing, that much I could tell. It seemed as though the woman was trying to walk away from him, but the man refused to let her leave. Despite my absent knowledge of the identity of the couple, my mother seemed to know one of them.

"Oh my God, that's Daryl and Ava." She whispered.

I rose my eyebrows. I've heard about Ava and her problems through the years from my mom. She was the stereotypical woman that got together with a 'bad boy' in her early reckless age, had a child with him, was abused by said husband, and tries to move on. I looked back at the infamous couple, watching as Ava was pressed against the tree aggressively. The more she struggled, the more violent her ex-husband, Daryl, became. Someone needed to intervene, or Ava was going to get hurt.

I looked to my mom and said: "He's completely out of it. We need to help her."

"I'll call the police." She replied, pulling out her phone.

"There isn't time for that." I quickly added, charging into the street.

"Rosy, hold on-"

"HEY!"

Daryl's attention shot toward my direction, he didn't look too happy that someone interrupted his activity. His eyebrows furrowed, "What do you want kid."

My fists curled at my sides, continuing my stride into the park. "Who the fuck do you think you are! Don't touch her like that!"

He scoffed and turned his head away from me. He slurred. "Run alon' lil' girl. This ain't your problem."

Little girl? I grabbed onto his leather jacket and pulled. "Don't fucking ignore me, asshole."

Daryl immediately shoved my hand away, now stomping towards me as I backed up, cracking his knuckles. "Alright! You got your wish! C'mere and get your ass whooping."

I felt my mother's hand grab onto my shoulder, pushing herself off of me, towards Daryl. "You're not going to touch her. Now, calm down."

Daryl laughed, "And now you? Fuck, what's next?"

It's felt like forever since I've seen that look on her face. Her expression was a mix between that protective mother instinct and disgust of injustice. The last time I can remember seeing that expression was when my mom finally caught this bully that would mess with me at school in the parking lot. It's a bit different in this case, there is a dangerous risk confronting this man. He isn't a child bully, he was an adult man who could really hurt someone. If there was any sort of fear that she felt, it was hidden well. I caught myself admiring my mom for her bravery, it was something that I've always strived to have. I forced myself to snap out of my thoughts, and stumbled to pull out my phone and dial 911. I tried to also listen in to my mother's argument with Daryl.

I listened as Daryl growled. "This ain't your business, Julia." He tightened his grip on Ava's arm.

"Well, I'm standing right here and I'm not leaving. She's my friend." My mom replied. "Ava, what is he bothering you about this time?"

While keeping a close eye on the group, I addressed the emergency operator on the phone and answered her questions. For some reason, as I watched them, I kept getting a slight feeling of deja vu. I quickly explained the situation and made sure to make a point that this man was incoherent and erratic. I watched as my mom put a hand on Ava's shoulder and gently began to pull her away from Daryl. What ever she was saying to them, it was calming them both down.

The emergency dispatcher pulled my attention away. "And what is your location at this time, miss?"

I shot a glance at the sheriff's station down the block, hoping to see Vincent or any officer walk out. "We're on 3rd and Yesler, just down the street from King County Sheriff's Office."

"Okay, hold tight miss. I just alerted the nearest officer in your location. He's-."

"Are you fuckin' with me?" I heard Daryl shout. My eyes darted back to into the park, noticing a new pair of eyes on me. Daryl's attention was fully aware of what I was currently doing. "You don' wanna just talk, you're tryin' to trick me! I see your bratty kid on the phone over there with the pigs!"

The hand that held my cellphone lowered to my side. I watched as my mom slowly began to approach him with her hands slightly raised. She calmly tried to decrease his tension. "Daryl, that's not what-" But he wasn't listening.

"-ROSY BEHIND YOU!"

Without a second thought, I lowered myself down just enough to feel a small gust of wind blow right over my shoulder. I spun on my heel to turn my body completely around just in time to catch a glint of light flicker off a silver blade. My instincts took over. Just like the warm ups I do with my trainer, I leaned my body to the side, dodging the knife, and landed a single punch to the opponent's jaw line. They stumbled backwards into the moonlight that came from the broken window. From this distance, I could take a good and safe look at who just attacked me.

This person stood at maybe a couple inches taller than my 5'7", already confirming that this wasn't the tall man looking into the house through the kitchen window. They wore what looked like a Harlequin-Jester mask. With the primary color being white, the main design revolved around the eyes accompanied by black lips. This was pretty plain compared to a normal jester mask. I could almost appreciate the simplicity of the eye design with how only four teardrop strokes dripped down from each eye. The mask looked homemade, judging by how jagged and messy looking the design looked.

I broke the silence between us, after noticing that I wasn't the only person looking over my opponent. "Why are you here?" I asked. The intruder remained quiet, so I asked another question. "You aren't a burglar because you knew someone was home. So are you a friend of Jace and just doing his dirty work?" Again, silence. Lizzy took out my hunting knife, holding it up with a, surprisingly, steady hand, given her situation. I pursed my lips together about to ask another question, when the intruder made a break for it. They made it maybe about a foot away before I grabbed onto their hoodie and slammed them against the wall, knocking the knife out of their hand.

Like a deer in headlights, I stood still and watched as Daryl approached me baring his teeth and slurring any insult he could growl. The closer he got, the more urgency I felt to move. When I finally took a single step back, my mother grabbed onto his shoulder and pushed him to the side. "You leave her out of this." She warned, placing herself in front of myself and Ava.

Daryl stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. "You fucking bitch!" He snarled and pulled a pistol from his coat. My eyes widened as I felt my heart began to pound against my chest. Ava slowly backed up and gripped onto my jacket. He cocked it and aimed it in my mom's direction, "Move. Now."

Pinning the intruder against the wall, I leaned my face in close and glared into the mask. A black thin layer of sheet covered the inside of it, making it impossible to see their eyes unless a direct light was shone on it. Behind my back, I could hear Lizzy walk over to us fighting a small coughing fit. I lowered my head slightly and glared at the intruder. Lowering my voice down to a give a rough warning. "Stay the fuck away from here and away from Elizabeth, you hear me?" Even with this heed of warning, I needed a back up. I needed to know who this person was in case they came back. My hand gripped onto the mask just as illumination from a lightning bolt lit up the house. For a split second, I caught a small glimpse of their eyes. I couldn't pinpoint any other details other than the eyes were wide with fear and looking outside to the backyard. I shouldn't have turned around, every instinct told me not to look, but I did. I turned my head and was immediately shoved to the ground. The intruder picked up the blade and charged at me. I began to shuffle backwards into the living room, dodging the slices. When my back touched the wall, I had nowhere else to go. I looked up at the intruder still prowling towards me with the knife up and ready. Lizzy took this opportunity and slammed a table lamp over their head.

My mom slowly began to walk over to Daryl with her arms in the air. "It's okay Daryl, just put the gun down." Daryl remained stiff, the pistol shaking in his hands. He didn't want to shoot anyone. He was just incoherent and probably scared. She continued to walk over to him, whispering comforting words before she was close enough to grab onto the gun. As soon as she touched the metal, Daryl snapped out of his shock state and struggled.

Lizzy lunged at the intruder with my hunting knife only to have it knocked out of her hand when the masked intruder landed a punch. She didn't back down though, she engaged in a struggle with them as she attempted to rip the blade away.

I held my breath and I watched Daryl nearly fling my mother side to side trying to shake her off as she clutched onto the pistol for dear life. I didn't know what to do, I felt like I was stuck in cement as I watched this happen in front of me. The same feeling of deja vu increasing as the situation grew more dangerous. Why was I feeling this?

I had to do something, I need to help. Lizzy didn't know how to fight. Taking the opportunity she gave me, I stood back up on my feet and looked for an opening to help her.

In the corner of my eye, I could see two figures running out of the Sheriff's station. I let out a sigh of relief and thought that maybe it was Vincent running to help. When my eyes shifted back over to the street, Daryl and my mother were separated. He lifted the pistol up. That's when I realized why this was familiar. I had a dream about a man shooting a woman. That wasn't a dream, that was a premonition.

Red and blue lights seeped into the house, illuminating everything. Time was running out and I took the only opening I could get. The intruder managed to shove Lizzy hard away, creating space for themselves. My fist charged in and made contact with their nose, causing them to fly out of the living room. The sound of wood screeching snatched my attention away. Tuning my head, time seemed to slow. I watched the glass cabinet lean over to fall down on top of Lizzy's body.

Time slowed down, complete silence overtook my hearing. My cell phone dropped out of my hand, crashing into the ground, as well as my heart. My foot instinctively stepped forward, charging towards my mom. Daryl turned his head to the side and noticed my rush. His face became overwhelmed with defense and fear, instinctively pulling the trigger. I felt the warm crimson splatter over my face. BANG!

Glass flew all across the living room, the sound completely shattering the silence. As if I was rushing through a pond, gravity pulled me back and I couldn't push my body fast enough towards Lizzy. I felt an object crash against my foot; Vincent's prized pistol.

I wasn't able to catch my mom as she fell to the ground. Daryl began to quiver, he didn't mean to shoot. He didn't mean to pull the trigger, he kept repeating. But none of that mattered. I held my mom in my arms, watching as the blood began to slid down her forehead. Tears began to form in my eyes when I looked up to watch as Daryl and Ava both running down the street. By the time those two officers made it down here, the couple would be gone. I looked down at my mother, and then back up to the running couple. What do I do…?

My teeth grinded together as I raised the pistol at the intruder. Their gaze shot up, noticing the weapon as they stumbled to their feet. My finger curled against the trigger, my eyes and eyebrows narrowing. The intruder didn't take a second thought and dashed towards the backdoor. This left me with a very familiar notion. I turned to the fallen cabinet, and then back at the intruder running out of the house. What do I do…?

I watched as the intruder dash through the backdoor and into the backyard. I bit my lip and turned back to rush over to the cabinet. I stopped when I heard Lizzy yell: "I'm okay! I'm good! I can get out fine!" I wanted to ask if she was sure, but my question was answered when I saw her begin to crawl out. I failed to notice the first time that the cabinet was at an angle, it landed on foot ottoman which stopped it from completely landing on the ground. A strong knock on the front door told it that that was my que. This was my second chance. This time, I wasn't going to let the person who hurt a loved one get away without paying for it.

I pushed back any thoughts or emotions, and allowed my body to act on it's own. I could hear the sound of my footsteps slamming against the wooden floor while navigating to the wet soil from outside of her house, but I didn't feel much. My adrenaline took over my senses; all I could think about was chasing the asshole who hurt my friend. I slid to a stop after making my way across the backyard, unsure of where the masked stranger went to. The night was painfully silent, no crickets, no sounds of civilization, even the wind and rain had stopped. I listened to my surrounding so intensely, I thought I could even hear the sound of my blood running in my ears.

SNAP.

My head shot toward the direction of the sound. I was already running before I even realized it, making my way into the backwoods. The deeper I ran into the woods, the more my thoughts began to drift. What if he's luring me in? Is this a trap? I could possibly get lost here. Shit, where did he go? I can't hear him running anymore. I slowed my pace down to jogging, and then to a walk.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I lost him! I fucked up. I don't know where I am.

I paced around for a bit as quiet as I could; the stranger could be around without me even knowing. My breathing slowed down and the adrenaline began to whither away. I regained my senses, as well as the fear. My mind kept trying to calm itself, telling it sweet lies and reassurance as I continued my search for the man. I have never gripped a gun this hard ever before.

And then I heard it:

Grass rustled softly as feet nearly glided over the wet patchy dirt. I kneeled down behind a bush, watching as the one I was searching for tiptoed away. Their head scanned around aggressively but purposeful. It didn't look like they was searching for a person, but more so something in the trees as their gaze was high. I slowly prowled along their side, making sure to remain hidden and step lightly. What were they looking for? The masked stranger jolted slightly and stopped in their tracks; again, their gaze was high and fixated. I wanted to move to a location where I had a better view of what they were looking at, but my preferred spot was an open area, so I kept my view of the masked stranger's side. I suppressed a cough as I felt my throat began to tingle. Swallowing saliva coated the urge, luckily. I silently observed their body language shift from confident, to un-sure, all the way down to fearful. It was as though they were listening to someone talk to them.

Then, they spoke. "You lied to me, you didn't tell me that she wasn't going to be alone." A feminine muffled voice bounced against the mask. My eyes blinked in confusion; and I was almost sure that the intruder was male. My lips pressed against itself, holding back the urge to cough once more. I held my breath as she reached for her mask. "You told me to kill Elizabeth, you didn't say I was going to put up a fight." The girl jolted and pulled the mask back down quickly, as if someone scolded her for the attempt. My eyes kept scanning her surroundings, but with this tree in the way, I couldn't see the person she was talking to.

"Elizabeth can't fight, if it wasn't for-" Her sentence was cut off. She began to shake her head, while trying to stay confident, she stutters out, "N-no! I don't! She's not important!" I notice her body begin to lean back. Her words came out more and more stuttered as she began to step back. That's when I noticed a thin tendril-like shadow slither towards her. That's what she was backing away from. My face scrunched up and my hand gripped into my chest, I held back several more coughs. This is the worst possible moment for me to develop a cold.

The intruder wasn't fast enough to dodge the tendril. It crawled up her body and wrapped around her throat. Her hands slammed against it, fighting it. "W-wait! No! She doesn't matter! I'll take care of them both next time!" How was this happening? What is that? My teeth gritted together as I held my breath, if I released a breath, I would certainly hack up. I needed to see where this was coming from, so I leaned in closer. Her feet rose from the ground as the tendril lifted her up. She began to choke, wheezing out. "I-I can h-elp you! She h-has s-something you n-need!" With how dark it was, I couldn't get any good looks, but I did managed to see part of the side of a man wearing black. I leaned in further to see the face. When I leaned in, my palm landed on a sharp rock. I gasped in pain, hunched over, and released the coughing fit that I was repressing this entire time.

While coughing, I looked back up to see the intruder fall to the ground. The tendril quickly slithered back to it's source. They knew I was here, whoever they were. Both myself and the intruder stood to our feet, our attention glued to each other. Before I could do anything, a bright light flashed behind me.

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" A voice roared.

I took a quick glance. Right behind my back was a police officer while his flashlight and gun pointed at me. When I looked back around, both of them were gone.

"Drop the weapon and put your hands up!" He shouted at me.

I obeyed the officer, doing exactly what he said. To be honest, with what I just saw, I had completely forgotten that I still had the gun. "It doesn't work, sir."

"Just stand there and don't move." The officer warned. He tilted his head and spoke into his radio. "I got a 417, female, dark hair." My eyes closed and I let out a frustrated sigh. Here we go again. The words that came from the radio were unclear to me, but I assumed it was a question. The officer in front of me replied, "Camouflage colored jacket and brown boots." It took only a few seconds before the other officer on the radio replied. "10-4. That is not the suspect." The officer nodded, transmitting one last '10-4' before placing his pistol back in his holster. "Are you hurt?"

"Julia! Rosanna!" Vincent shouted against the sound of his shoes slamming against the pavement. His sprint fell short when he noticed the blood. An "Oh god, no…" escaped his lips.

I didn't even look up at him when he slowly walked closer. I felt a hand cover my shoulder. My arms tightened around my mom's lifeless body, tears dripped from my cheeks onto her clothes. I burrowed my face into her chest and began to mumble quiet prayers to God, the universe, anyone, anything. Please...don't be gone.