Roses Are Red

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I don't know how long I've been standing here, almost as lifeless as my parents, but I know I'm crying now, and my breathing's ragged and uneven. All I'm aware of is their unmoving bodies and the music still playing, fading in and out along with my dizziness.

~ Run Bobby run...

~ Run Bobby run...! ~

The singing stops. A broken sob erupts through the room. It's mine.

Footsteps echo downstairs, getting louder the closer they come.

It's the killer. They've come to make you match. Match your birthday present.

A high-pitched scream from behind me barely makes me flinch. Lizzie's suddenly beside me, hands groping my sides and arms, shaking harder than I am and trying to usher me back upstairs. More people crowd around the entryway and Lizzie yells at them to move out of the way and call the police. A couple of people stumble off, several gaping at the scene as I feel myself being gently but firmly guided back upstairs. Mia rushes over to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and leading me upstairs to my room.

"Breathe for me Holls - just... just breathe, okay? It's okay. Oh, there was a note in the turntable thing, I bought it with me... oh my god..."

It's not okay. And her cracked voice reminds me of the music. I manage to make my way upstairs with her, then collapse onto my bed, hot tears streaming down my flushed cheeks.

I can't remember the last time I cried.

"I..." Mia starts, and my eyes glide over to meet hers slowly, taking in her terrified expression as she reads the blood-stained note. It looks like it's been ripped from a book or something, an old book, since the white of the paper is yellowing slightly.

"I think I should show this to the police-"

"Wait," I croak, reaching out to grab it. "Let me see."

Mia hesitates but doesn't pull away when I take it, blinking a few times so the swirly black writing isn't swimming in my clouded vision.

'Roses are red,

'Your blood is too,

'You're better off dead,

'I'm coming for you.'

Mia goes to get up and say something, and I suddenly find myself grabbing her wrist desperately, stopping her in her tracks abruptly. Her brows twitch in confusion and concern.

"Holly-"

"Don't," I say, my voice steady but still thick with whirring emotions, and I push the note into my pocket. "What'll they do, Mia? I mean, what will they really do? It needs to be up to me."

Mia takes a deep, wary breath, then sits down again, eyes earnest.

"Holly, I don't want you to get hurt. God, I can't believe this is happening. But, no, let's face it, it is happening, whether we like it or not, and you're amazing at figuring things out and getting things out of people. But Holls, this is too real. It's not a book, it's... it's a twisted murder, a real-life murder."

"Exactly," I respond, a slight edge to my tone now. "Two murders, actually, and the victims were my parents. Think about it - who'd want my Mum and Dad dead? Their work was their life. They're normal, boring adults, as far as I know. But that's my business. I owe it to them."

"These people are trained to sort it out," Mia tried to convince me again. "They've got the stuff for it. They can help... Holly, I don't want you to die."

Her voice cracks again and she bows her head, taking a shaky breath and squeezing her eyes shut. I sigh, wrapping my arms around her hot, shaking frame.

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