Getting Caught Undercover

Chapter Twenty-One

A/N: The first POV does not necessarily continue on from the last chapter. I'm leaving it anonymous on who's it is because why not? I think it adds a little extra excitement to this story.  Also, the trailer above was made by StylesMania14 , but besides that, 

Enjoyyy...

~KittyKat<3

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**24 hours in the future**

Love. It's a strange thing. It comes out of nowhere, hitting you so hard that it takes the breath out of you. Love grasps your heart and refuses to let go. It tangles it's fingers into your heart and doesn't ever release it until you accept it and let it stay apart of you. The special thing about love is that it can be deadly.

Hatred. Now, hatred is a funny thing. It consumes your whole body and masks you with nothing but the sight of red fury. Hatred goes a long way as it fills your body with a speed faster than lightening. Your body doesn't get the choice to stop that pinch of anger once it's been started, once the fire's been lit. Soon you'll find yourself with enough anger to kill.

Death. Death was an interesting thing. It's just like love and makes you succumb to its every demand. Death takes your heart and crushes it. Leaving nothing but ashes and dust. As love, it takes you in, but as death, it forces you to leave. You can never recover from that darkness and you can never get that part of your heart back. Suddenly you'll find yourself laying there in hell and next, you'll find yourself never returning.

Ah, now let's mix them together. Love can turn into hatred once the heart has been broken and ripped out of your chest. It causes a pain that can't be retaped right away. That hatred leads you to do things that you shouldn't, it leads you to become a monster at times. Why? I wasn't sure, but part of me was sure it had to do with the fact that the love is still there. The love in your heart never actually leaves and you hate yourself for that. This is why we do those stupid things. This is why we hurt the ones we love the most, not physically of course, no, emotionally. We can't control the path our heart creates with our brain. We can't stop the unexpected love. Just like we can't stop death.

Blood. That was something I always found quite compelling. It releases from your body just by a simple scratch. Your body had plenty of the stuff and if you lose some it doesn't take much to regenerate it. But for some, blood was disgusting, they would throw up or pass out because they can't handle the thought of the liquid leaking out of someone's body drip by drip, pint by pint, quart by quart. Some were in love with the liquid, they would lick their wounds and others would donate it often because they truly enjoyed the feeling it gave them as it left their bodies. It was like a high.

Now, I didn't ever have a problem with blood. I wasn't the type to throw up or pass out and I wasn't the type to lick it either. I mean that's just disgusting. But I didn't ever mind donating blood ever so often either because it was for a good cause, yet here I sit. Blood dripping onto the concrete one drop by one. The red liquid was drowning me. I was sitting in a pool of it and barely staying afloat as it continued to try to pull me under. It was on my lips, my cheeks, and my nose; my forehead, my hands, my arms, and my clothes. It just kept appearing.

"Shh, you're going to be okay," I whispered holding the body in my arms closer. "Just close your eyes," I said tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. "It will all be over soon."

"I'm scared." She whispered, her eyes never leaving mine as her body shook.

"Don't be. It was inevitable." I said just as softly.