"Why does everyone around us die?"
the young helpful daughter, of Annalise and Sam Keating, finally gets to attend the very law school her mother works at. it was a dream of hers to follow in her mother's footsteps. though as she goes through these...
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In the middle of the night at the Hapstall home a gunshot rang out at the large house. Minutes later a familiar body ran from the home and onto the back lawn.
There stood Wes Gibbins, the most panicked anyone had ever been. A flash of regret crossed his face before he took off towards the woods.
In the home, the family portrait was covered in splatters of crimson. Red pouring onto the once freshly white carpet. Blood staining the wooden cabinets.
On the carpet- in a puddle of their own blood was Annalise Keating. Red pouring, and pouring from the suit beneath her blouse.
Red staining the white blouse until there was no more white. Gasps of pain filling the air, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
Her cellphone began to vibrate on the coffee table beside her. Weakly- her hand reached out for it, eyes barely open. Her blood covered hand made its way to the table, inching towards the phone.
Pain struck her abdomen resulting in her bringing her hand back down. Eyes slowly closing until the whites of her eyes were no longer visible.
"Wes." He heard the whisper of his name, drawing him to the bushes where Laurel and Michaela stood.
"Where's Nora and Connor?" He breathed out in a rush. His nerves was high and all he could think of was the girl he had been fawning over for the past two months. "We thought you had them." Laurel's eyes widened in worry- cold air picking at her skin causing bumps to rise.
Michaela, tear covered cheeks, bent down on her knees in panic. "Oh, my God, they're gonna be here any minute." She hissed, in a hurry to leave the house and never come back. "We can't leave without them." Laurel grabbed her arm turning her to face them.
"I'm not leaving her." Michaela groaned at Wes- looking in between the the two. "Fine, but where the hell are they?" The brunette sighs, turning her gaze to the darkened house before her. Wes turned to follow her gaze before realization stuck him.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Connor spit- hands applying pressure to the bloodied Annalise. "This is your fault. It's always your fault."
Annora removed the hand from her mouth. Her cheeks wet and stained from the tears that fell from her eyes. "Momma, I'm here. It-It's gonna be okay. They're coming. They're coming." She tried to form a smile but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
