jaded [tara carpenter]

viii. goodbye sheriff

"Dewey didn't need to do it for me, but he did."

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LAYLA HAD always been a runner. She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair and the gravel under her feet. It was the only time she felt truly free, the only time she could let go of her worries and just be. It had been something that her father had pushed her to do, a sport that she'd always had such a love for.

As Layla ran through the streets of Woodsboro, her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her like a thick fog. Any time that she had felt this sort of dread before, she knew it was irrational. But now? It seemed like her dread was a completely normal reaction to the events that were happening in her life.

She'd never quite had the fear of losing her loved ones before, since both of her parents had died before she was even old enough to fear the horrors of the world that they lived in. That being said, it had been consuming her lately. She loved Gale and Dewey like second parents now, and the thought of either of them getting hurt was killing her inside. 

She thought of them like her parents, who were getting older with each passing year. They weren't in their physical prime like they had been when fighting off all the Ghostfaces previously, and what would she do if they died? How would she go on without them? 

And Tara, Wes, Chad, Mindy, the rest of her friends - they all meant so much to her. The thought of losing any of them was too much to bear. Although she wasn't currently seeing eye to eye with her, Layla knew that even if Amber was killed that she wasn't sure how she would get over that.

As she ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps, Layla couldn't help but wonder if this fear was a sign of something deeper. Was she afraid of death itself? Or was it just the fear of being alone, of losing the people who made her life worth living?

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She knew she had to focus on the present, on the here and now. Contemplating which one of her friends were next to be killed by Ghostface wasn't going to save anyone. Layla ran faster, pushing herself to go harder, to forget her worries for a little while. But even as her legs pumped and her lungs burned, the fear remained. It was a constant companion, always lurking just beneath the surface.

Layla started to run across the road, so focused on her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. She looked up just in time to see the car hurtling towards her, its headlights blinding her. Her heart leaped into her throat as she stumbled back, narrowly avoiding being hit. Layla let out a stream of curses, bending over and placing her hands on her thighs as she tried to regain her breath.