Killing The Killer

Chapter 2

The man is sitting on a bench in a bus stop shelter, his hood is pulled off his head, his arctic blue eyes stare deep into mine and I stop the car abruptly. His face is ghostly pale and he almost doesn't blink. A familiar scar is over his left eyebrow, it goes all the way up to his hairline. A shiver runs down my spine and I try desperately to catch my breath. I feel like someone punched me and my heart feels like it's trying to burst out of my chest.

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A man stands in front of the fallen person. He is wearing a black sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, his eyes glisten light blue, and there is a gash over his left eyebrow. In the shade of his hood I can see a few strands of dark brown hair, and at his feet is the pooling blood of our classmate. He turns and calmly walks up the staircase, and I shudder as I hear another person scream. We jog toward our classmate, their face is splattered with blood. Soon we drew close enough to recognize him. "Oh my god," Hazel cries. 

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A car honks, shaking me from my memories, and I lower a shaking foot onto the gas pedal. I look into my rearview mirror as I drive away, and his eyes follow my car until I turn the corner. A heavy rain starts to wash the grime off my car and I switch my lights and the windshield wipers on. I turn up Hazel's driveway, pull my hood over my head, take my key out of the ignition, and put my phone into my pocket. Taking a deep breath, I open the car door. Cold rain pelts my head quickly soaking through my sweater, shirt, and leggings. Skipping the first two steps, up the porch, I sprint the rest of the way to the front door. Spamming the doorbell while jumping from one foot to the other, trying to keep warm.

I reach to ring the doorbell again but the door jerks open before my finger presses the button. Hazel's worried face peer's at me, her head slightly tilted up to look into my eyes. She ushers me into her house, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. I sit on the bed as she rummages through her dresser, looking for something for me to wear.

"Livvy, are you going to tell me what happened?" she asks as she hands me a t-shirt, shorts, and an extra baggy sweater.

"Yeah, sorry," I mutter, looking down at the clothes, unable to look in her eyes.

"It's fine," she responds, "I was just worried."

"Um, can I have some water?"

"Oh, of course, I'll be right back," she responds gently.

As soon as she closes the door behind her, I rip the wet layers of clothing off and put on the dry ones. I don't want to leave my wet clothes on her bed, so I fold them and discard them next to it. I look around her room. The furniture is perfectly matched, and everything looks organized and clean. Pictures litter the dresser and desk along with flowers, plants, and nicknacks. I stand up slowly, listening for footsteps on the stairs. I don't hear anything, so I walk into the bathroom.

I flick the light switch on and stand in front of the sink. Leaning my face down by the faucet, I splash ice cold water onto my face and over my closed eyes. 

Hi!!! I'm sorry that this technically ended on a cliff hanger! I had this chapter written, but I just had to edit it. The next few chapters will be more interesting (They are mostly written, I'm just fixing them, and typing them out). I'm not sure if I should make the chapters longer or not... The italicized part is her memories of her past, sorry if that wasn't clear. 

Bye!!!

-S.M. <3