In a world where the government is trying to control the population, every family is assigned to be either hiders or seekers. The hiders spend their lives hiding, while the seekers spending their lives finding and killing these hiders. Samantha John...
I follow Harry into my room and see my window wide open, a small breeze flowing in. I shiver slightly as I watch Harry observe the window, looking out it as he scans the backyard. There's no doubt that somebody very skillful and smart broke into my room because I couldn't get that window open when I tried.
I slowly pace into the bathroom to check and see if my blue mark make up was touched when my heart drops to my stomach and my whole body freezes in fright.
The word "Killer" is written in capital letters in blood on my mirror.
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"Harry!" I let out a blood-curdling scream as I continue to stare at the mirror in horror.
"Samanta! What's wrong?!" I hear Harry's voice call out in panic before hearing his footsteps quickly approach. He reaches the bathroom and I watch as his footsteps come to a halt, and he gawks at the sight in front of us. "Holy shit," Harry mumbles, staring in shock and fright. I don't think I've ever seen Harry look this scared.
"Harry, who could've done this?" I cry out, my body shaking in terror.
"I-I have no clue," Harry states, his eyes still glued to the mirror. He takes slow steps towards the mirror before taking his fingertip and sliding it against the glass, picking up some blood. He brings it closer to his eyes before looking back at me with petrified eyes. "It's definitely real blood though," Harry declares, quickly washing off his hands.
I feel so sick.
"Don't touch a thing. I'm going to have Liam come out here and inspect this. He might be able to see whose blood it is. It could've been the blood of the person who broke in," Harry states, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialing Liam's number. "Liam, can you come here now? Yes, its urgent. Someone has broken in," Harry says lowly, and the realization hits me like a brick.
I was stuck in a house with someone that could've killed me. I was just having a chill night watching TV when I heard footsteps from upstairs. I knew it wasn't Harry, so I immediately hid and called him. Thank God he answered. If he didn't, I don't know what would've happened. Whoever it was could've came downstairs and found me and I would've had no way of escaping this locked up house. The thought makes me sick to my stomach as I run to the toilet bowl and throw up the dinner I cooked tonight.
"Oh shit, Liam. She's getting sick. I got to go, please get here fast," Harry demands and hangs up the phone.
He is by my side in an instant, dropping on his knees as he gathers and holds my hair up. Under any other circumstance, I would find this a sweet gesture, but right now all I can think about is the blood on my mirror.
After I am done, I wipe my face and rock back and forth in fear and sickness.
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