Chapter Thirty

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It started raining on my way to Karlene's house. I blocked my head by putting my backpack on top of it, couldn't afford to not make it back safe. I was cold, and my limbs were shivering as I ran down the slippery, wet concrete path that leads to our street.

It was getting nearer, I thought, as the familiar trees that were there with us that late night I got drunk, came into view. One by one, the identical branches get pulled out from the fog as if I wasn't moving at all. Like I was standing still while the wind that carried rain, slammed against my feeble body.

I forced myself to lift my legs and keep on going because I was almost there. A back of an orange car soon made an appearance on the blurry plane. So she's home? My heart raced at the thought that I was that close to seeing her again, but my mind was still confused about what I was planning to do when I came faced to face with her.

I didn't pace any longer when I came to her porch, I leaped on the steps and into her door turning the doorknob open. Straight away, as I swayed the wood to let myself inside, I saw that all the lights in her living room and kitchen were off. Windows were all tightly closed, curtains were shut, her house was dead, and the only living, thriving thing despite the dimness was a pink petal that sat on her coffee table.

My heartbeat began to drop as I took the scene in, her radio's electric cable was slovenly cut off, the mug with the rainbow handle was shattered against the floor of the living room that made me flinch, I almost stepped into a broken piece as I walked up to her dining table. It grew darker the more I moved forward, and I just wanted to scream where the fuck is she under all of this...?

In the kitchen, I saw that everything was cleared off. Everything that reminded me of her was not there to be found, all of it was kept.

Upstairs was another mystery. The steps lost themselves to the darkness above. I gulped as I ascended. My body felt so heavy because of my rain-soaked clothes, it slowed me down.

Her second floor was no different from the ground floor, although this was more dreadful than the other. I was presented to an eerie, narrow hall, and unpainted walls. It lead to a door that I believe was her room. The door was opened partially, letting a small amount of light escape out. It was quiet, and I could only hear my footsteps and my fast-paced breathing.

This was scarier than the halls of that movie theatre, and possibly couldn't compare to anything, because what I was feeling wasn't just nervousness. I was frightened, and the last time this happened didn't end up well.

Not a single motion from inside as I listened, stood frozen behind the door. I grabbed the cold doorknob with a mix of hesitation and guilt thinking that I might've been too late.

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