Facing The Facts <Sequel to "Everyone Has A Past">

Chapter 7

Jordan's POV

(-)(-)The Next Morning...(-)(-)

I stretched, and yawned, looking around.
No one was there.
Maybe I woke up late and they're on the upper deck?
Yeah, they had to be.
I got up, and ran up the stairs.
"Morni-" I say, before noticing that no one was there.
"What's going on..." I ask out loud, looking around confused.
I get off the ship, and walk around the docks.
No one.
What's going on? Am I in a ghost town version of this place?
Am I dreaming?
I pinched myself, and realized
This was no dream.
Soon, I see something.
A letter.
I read it to myself, questioning every part of it.
JoRDan

I cANt belieVe tHAT yoU hAvEnt gIveN me aNy thoUght.
JUst thINK.
WhAT exactly kiLLED yOuR DAD?
~ANON

An assassin.
My heart practically stopped, my skin paled, and my adrenaline shot throughout my body, causing me to bolt down the streets, the one's now fully tainted with horrible memories.
I needed to save them.
I reached the busier area, and the streets were full of adults heading to work and kids walking to school.
Then there's me.
A person on the hunt to save their friends.
I look around for a shortcut, and saw a mere alleyway.
Maybe this could help? Just run through it, no big deal...
So, I dash through the alley, to only be tripped by two guys.
None other than my two main tormentors back then, Justin and Zack.
Oh isn't this just fantastic.
"Well, well. Look who it is." Justin retorted.
"Jordan Moron? Knew you'd come crawling back to this island." Zack continued.
I remained quiet, not knowing what to do.
My mind was racing at the moment, so I couldn't do anything.
Where's Tucker, Tom, Sonja, Wag, and the others when you need them?
Why Zack and Justin, out of all of the people?
Where's Skipper?
Is Capsize alive again or is she still dead?
Am I going home anytime soon?
"Aw, just as defenseless as I remember." Justin teased, kicking me in the side of my ribs.
I made an attempt to stand up, but they quickly kicked me down.
"Out of all of the people, and all of the times, it's me, right now?" I ask, my throat dry and hoarse.
"Yep! Wakey Wakey, idiot. Reality check!" Zack sneers, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
They stood over me, grinning evilly.
Without any further thought, I grabbed their legs, causing them to fall, and took the time to run for it.
"JORDAN GET BACK HERE OR ELSE!" Zack threatened as I ran.
And as I ran, I grew further and further away from any other people, and into an abandoned part of the island.
They were catching up to me, as I bolted down the streets, and before I knew it, I needed to run into one of the abandoned buildings.
But, with sheer luck, I lost them and dashed into the right house.
I ran up the stairs, and into a random room, and locked the door.
As a breather, a held the left side of my ribs, where I was kicked.
It hurt like crazy, as I cringed while I applied pressure to it.
Then, a sudden wave of pain, mental and physical, washed over me.
My only friends were taken away by an assassin.
I felt dead inside out, and I just wanted to sit in a corner, and give up.
That's when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, only one pair.
Does someone own this place?
Next, someone fumbles with the lock at the door, soon swinging it open.
I was greeted by a man with charcoal black hair, and dark brown eyes.
"What are you doing in my house." He demanded.
"Uh, I'm so sorry! I was being chased, and I needed to take cover, and I thought it was abandoned, and-" I panic, and he interrupts me, saying, "Relax. It's fine, I don't take to good care of this ol' place, anyways."
"Thank you. I'm just gonna go now..." I say, awkwardly.
"Wait! Aren't you Jordan Maron?" He asks.
"Yeah..."
"JORDAN HELP US!" I hear Sonja yells from the basement.
I pause, looking at him.
An evil grin is plastered on his face, as he runs towards me.
Without thinking, I run to the window, breaking the glass on my left side, jumping out.
"NOT SO FAST!" He yells, darting down the stairs.
Before I left the house, I glanced back, reading the address, "1995 Walnut Way"
I run, now knowing that I was royally screwed. The whole left side of my body ached, and I only cringed in pain.
Quickly, as one of my only hopes to live, I ran down an alleyway, and dove into one of those large green trash cans.
I breathe silently, sitting on top of a pile of horrendous-smelling trash, waiting for my queue of safety.
I was so dead.
I was being chased by Justin and Zack.
I was being chased by THE ASSASSIN WHO KILLED MY DAD.
I was bleeding out, holding on for dear life.
"Hold on, Jor. For me." A man's voice comforted.
"Great. I'm hallucinating now." I mumble, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples.
"No. It's me, your dad? You probably don't recognize my voice, do you?" He coes.
"I'm sorry, I don't." I sigh, holding the left side of my body.
"Listen. Tonight, get out of there, you don't belong in there. You're far from trash, in case that thought would've passed your mind. Secondly, go to the house again. Rescue them. They will do nothing but help you. That's all they've ever done." He plots.
I smile, thanking him.
Soon, his voice fades, leaving me alone in a garbage can.
A garbage can.

(-)(-)That Night...(-)(-)

I was ready to head out, my left side no aching as bad as it was beforehand.
I walk down the long abandoned road, searching for 1995 Walnut Way.
Soon, I found it again, and quietly walked in, listening for clues.
"You aren't going to get away with this!" Skipper yelled.
"Oh~, but I am." The assassin slurred, then a scream of pain came from the basement.
"PLEASE DON'T HURT US! WE'VE DONE NOTHING!" Martha pleaded.
Without thinking, I opened up a door that lead downstairs.
Once I reach the bottom, I peer around the corner, to see them all tied up to a bunch of chairs, them looking desperate for freedom.
They saw me, and were about to yell out my name, before I put my finger up to my mouth, silencing them.
"Aww, what's wrong? Can't handle the fact that you're all gonna die? Well, isn't that just a shame..." He slurs, cackling at the end.
Quickly, I sneak up behind him, and say, "Not if I end you first," now strangling him.
He drops his knife, gasping for air.
I kick the knife over to Gaines, and continue to hold on to him.
Please hurry up - I don't think I can hold him here for much longer.

----

Well that was long... lol
Anyways,
*strums Mexican guitar*
Peace!
~Smart