Perfect (Rewrite)

Chapter Seventy Five

Chloe sat in her room, the door locked, her thoughts swirling. Her suspicions about Jacob were wrong; she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Rachel turned on them without a second thought, so why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't the others? There were only four people Chloe could trust, but what if she couldn't even trust them. David, Margaret, Melanie, and Jacob. Collin would've been on the list too if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't even fight against them if he tried. He was only a baby. He was the only safe one of them, yet he wasn't even safe from the harsh conditions of the man. His bruises had faded some but they were still vivid enough to hurt when touched. They tried to avoid brushing against those places, but it was impossible to carry him without causing him harm.

Ordinary thoughts struck her mind. Like the fact that Collin might never get to go to an actual school and get an education. How she might not ever get married and have the dream wedding she started planning when she was fourteen. How her parents must be so worried about her whereabouts, and her siblings too. All of their families must've been heartbroken over their disappearances. How were they supposed to continue without them in their lives anymore? How would the six of them survive alone in the house together, forever. Surely their relationships wouldn't last that long. Arguments would break out, which would lead to hateful words, which would lead to fights, which would lead to violence, which would lead to more strikes, which would ultimately lead to death. Or would it? Death hadn't been Rachel's fate. And Melanie was still nowhere to be found. Was she alive or dead? Maybe they should've kept Rachel alive long enough to get that answer.

It was a short path to insanity, breaking themselves of everything was the only way to survive, doing what they had to was the only way to survive. But what if what they had to do wasn't the right thing. What if killing Rachel had been a mistake? Chloe still couldn't stomach the fact that she had taken a life, Rachel's life. Her hands forever belonged to a murder, she was a cold blooded killer with dirty hands that could never be cleaned from this deed.

Without emotions they couldn't argue, fight, get hurt, hate one another. Apathy could get them through it, it could save them. Chloe wondered whether or not she should share her newfound idea with the others. What if they thought she was crazy? They probably all still had their heads wrapped around escaping, but Chloe had accepted the truth. The horrible truth. It was never going to happen. This was their home for now, for forever. There was nothing beyond these walls left for them. The world would continue on as if they never even existed, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

Someone knocked on her door, but she didn't answer. She didn't want to see him, in fact, he was the last person on Earth she wanted to see. Not now, not ever. There was so much wrong she had done to him, she knew she could never get it right. Not after earlier, not after tying him up and accusing him of being a part of the enemy. Chloe had almost killed him. They knocked again, but Chloe didn't make a squeak. She breathed slowly and softly, keeping herself absolutely silent.

"Chloe," Jacob said. "I know you're in there. Can I come in?"

She stared at the door, wide eyed and curious. Let him in or not, those were her two options. Chloe didn't move; she stayed still until his footsteps carried him away. Her deep breath welcomed air into her lungs without consent. She wished she wasn't in this place, not breathing again was better than being trapped in this house, this hell. Her pillowcase was back on her pillow, and for a moment, Chloe wondered how hard it would be to slip it over her own head and have the same fate as Rachel. What was it like to suffocate at the hands of a murder?

Chloe wished she hadn't given Jacob's notebook away, wished she could read the rest of it and forget all her suspicious thoughts about him. Maybe knowing his past would make it easier to trust him. It certainly would've made it easier to have a future with him, or at the least, to know if she wanted a future with him. She wondered if things would be better if they all knew more about each other and about themselves.

Someone knocked on her door again. "It's me," David said. Chloe let him in and locked the door afterward.

"What?" She asked.

"You don't have to be mad at yourself for what you did," He said, trying to comfort her. There was nothing that could make Chloe forgive herself, forgive what she almost did to Jacob, what she could've done to him. What she had done to Rachel. Time couldn't be reversed; they couldn't bring her back. "Jacob understands, and besides, it was my idea this time around, not yours."

"It still doesn't feel right." She shook her head, sitting on the bed. David seated himself beside her and together they stared into the lens of the camera. "Why would he let us kill his guards? Why didn't he punish me for killing Rachel?"

"Maybe it was part of his plan this whole time."

"Do you really think so?"

"Possibly," David answered and then patted her leg. "We both know he, whoever he is, is cruel. Crueler than the cruelest being alive. So yes, I think it's possible that he planned on one of us killing Rachel. Actually, I think he was counting on it."