Last One Standing (wattys2017) (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Sssh, I Think I Hear A Ghost

Sleeping that night seemed to be an impossibility.

The reality of things started to set in at the worse of times.

Lucas was going to leave in a month, go almost a state away to college, leaving me here to suffer in the depths of Hell with our brothers. My only angel and saving grace in this family was only thirty days away from fading from my life entirely.

My mind also somehow found its way back to Griffin and Jamie's fight. They had looked ready to kill each other in the middle of the empty auditorium, seconds away from throwing another punch that could quite possibly knock the other out. The way that James had acted could have only meant one thing.

Whatever Griffin had done had to do with me.

As much as I hated it, none of my brother's threatened to hurt another person unless I was involved in the ridiculous mess. My question was how I had ended up in the middle of whatever the hell Griff was doing this time.

"Alex." a quiet knock and call from the door shook me awake entirely, my thoughts dissipating.

"Alex." another knock, this one louder, "Are you awake?"

"Ale-"

"What the hell do you want, Mason?" I grumbled, pondering with the thought of chucking my pillow across the room at my older brother. He shifted awkwardly in the door frame, barely lit by the hall light, illuminating his face enough to allow me to see the fear in his eyes.

"I think I hear something downstairs." he muttered.

"It's probably just one of the boys." I responded, starting to lay back down, "Or Aliyah and Dad."

"It's not. It's three in the morning and Dad is working graveyard. I checked the rooms, but all the doors were locked." I sat upright again, rubbing my tired eyes as I started to slip out of bed.

"Why don't you go wake up one of the boys?" I asked him, slipping into Jace's NFL slippers, something I had stolen from his room a few weeks ago. He hadn't even realized they were gone yet.

"Because they'll think I'm a little wuss for being scared." Mason answered, poking at my shoulder with a weak smile, "You're the nicest of us all."

"You're so sweet." I replied dryly, tired and irritable.

"I try." he said, but I could hear the strain in his voice. I kept close to him as we inched down the stairs, my hands wrapping around his bicep as I hid my face behind his shoulder.

If I was going to be the first girl to die in a horror movie, I was going to drag the guy that brought me into it down with me.

Mason grabbed a shoe from on top of the dryer, clenching it in his hands as if it were a baseball bat rather than one of our brother's shoes.

"Mase." I grumbled, stopping outside the dining room, "Maybe we should go back upstairs." he was shaking his head, holding his finger in the air. It took me a minute to understand why. I could hear it now, the quiet sound of something shuffling around in the kitchen.

"Mason." I tugged at his sleeve like a three year old as he hit the lights and threw himself in front of the fridge. Seconds later, an incredibly loud and girlish squeak came out of my older brother as he threw himself on to the table, waving his hands frantically at whatever was in the kitchen.

"What is it?" I fought the urge to follow in suit, wrapping my arms around myself, "Mason, what's in the kitchen?" he made another squeaking sound.