Killing (And Other Games)

(Four)

(Four)

Finding the front lock changed is the final straw. No working week, no week, nothing-- I'm out, I tell myself, as I kick the front door and slam my hand against the doorbell. I am so, so, so out of here. My mum is angry at me for something that never happened, my best friend is off making friends and gaining weight and the whole case of my housemates isn't even worth mentioning. I didn't even like the new Bond film. For a moment, I think I'm going crazy, losing my passion for life is a sign of depression after all, but then I remember they changed the goddamn fucking locks and I yell even louder.

"Open the door!" I press my hand against the glass, pushing hard enough to break a weaker material. I try the keys again, shoving them into the hole in the near pitch-darkness. They even turned off the porch light, the monsters. "Open the door or I'm calling the police!"

The hallway lights are turned off but I can see movement in the foyer. I growl and swear and grumble. At this point I'd rather break a neck then fall into a puddle and cry. Now they're dealing with angry Immy.

"I swear to god I will call the police! I will call my mum and get you kicked out on your asses so fast you won't know what's happened!" Now that seems to get a response out of them. I hear talking , a quiet conversation, pick up into a recognizable one.

"You're being an asshole," says a voice, one that isn't entirely recognizable. I peer through the glass, trying to see who it is but it's so dark and the glass is frosted.

"I'm trying to get the message across," says a voice that undoubtedly belongs to Ryker. You can tell by his Swedish or German or Russian or whatever accent.

"Well I'm getting the message across to you now that you will open that door and stop being a dick." Who is that? Its definitely a guy, but which one?

"She's invading on our space!"

"Its her house, Ry."

"She's going to find out," Ryker exclaims, his voice echoing everywhere. Find out what? That he hates me? Big surprise.

"For fuck sake Ryker, tell the world about it why don't you? Open the door and then go have a cry, yeah?" I hear the stairs creaking, whoever just stood up for me leaving the room. Then, in a volume I can barely hear, "I'd really like you to be nice to her Ry. It's difficult with all of you getting so worked up about this. Just let the poor girl be, she's done nothing wrong. Do it for me, alright?"

A minute later, the front door swings open.

"Hello," Ryker greets, his expression strained. "I heard you the twentieth time you rung the door bell. A bit over the top, don't you think?" Storming past him, I smack my shoulder against his. He hardly even notices whilst my shoulder throbs, a smirk growing on his face. Wow, I really need to go back to Standing Up For Myself school.

I walk into the living room but not because I'm desperate for yet another confrontation. I want to see who is down here and try and work out who stood up for me. Sitting on the couch is Danika, her expression neutral except for the amusement in her eyes. I don't even bother with her. Next to her is the white haired man, the one with the pained, bored look plastered on his face. At the very least, he's seems to be apathetic towards me rather then aggressive. So, I realize, it must be the younger guy I saw yesterday...the one who looked particularly bothered by me. I try to recall what he looked like--dark blonde hair, narrow blue eyes, a frog like mouth--but it just doesn't seem to fit. No way is he the guy who just stood up for me so openly.

"We've made dinner. You can have some if you want." Snapping out of my thoughts, I look up at Ryker who is standing on the other side of the kitchen island, watching me tentatively. I give him a deadly look.