Scream

Reyna Copulas

I got to 4512 at two o'clock in the morning. I wasn't the only one, either. One car and one motorcycle; the car with its tires slashed like mine once were. I dial Triple-A, thankful for the 24/7 service. A dispatch is on their way, but they won't be here for hours. I know that from experience.

 I know the car belongs to Kellin. What was she doing out here? And who was she with? 

 In the distance, I see a bouncing light from a phone or something shut off. I pop my trunk and reach inside for my crowbar...my good ol', trusty crowbar. Twirling it in my hand, I head towards where the light was. Trepid, I remember the last time I had beenhere. I found Makai, killed a man, and lost Makai again. 

 If I kill anyone else, it'll be the killer. Not some high school weasel. 

 Okay, Reyna...just taking a stroll by a house where Kellin seems to be missing andsomeone just turned off a flashlight. No big deal, right?

Wrong. It's a huge deal. Walking through the grass, my footsteps on something solid. 

Bending down and picking it up, I realize what it is: a phone. Clicking the home button, Isee the lock screen is some anarchical banner. Definitely Kellin's.

 I put it back in my pocket and continue to the light; right around the corner of the house. Raising my crowbar, I tiptoe around, when a blinding light makes me see spots. Though I screamed, I hear that I'm not the only one. 

 Backing up and raising a hand to my face for protection, I try to make out who's here."Who the hell are you?" I frantically inquire. "And why are you here?" 

 "It's me! It's Adriano the Epic. Kellin texted for help and now she's gone. Why is thevictim of attempted homicide here?"

 "Kellin texted me, too. She dropped her phone. Maybe there was a struggle? Also, canyou lower the light?"

 "Oh..." he says like he forgot, doing as requested. "Sorry. Where could she have gone?" 

 Almost as if answering my question, the door to 4512 creaks open, inviting us into thedarkness which holds secrets...or, at least my secret. "You game?" 

 "I'm game for parties. I'm game for doing risky dares. I'm not game for this hauntedhouse shit."

 "So you're not going in there?" I ask, wondering how this guy can act as he lives on the edge but chicken out when a door opens without reason to a house. 

 "I mean...are you?" he questions, voice wavering with fear. 

 Well, if you think I'm going to let another innocent person die in the house of 4512, then you're insane. This isn't total redemption for murdering Freddie, obviously. But theadded pressure of Kellin dying wouldn't help my mental health. 

"Um, yes?" I exclaim.

"Do you want to die?" Adriano freaks.

"Yeah, totally," I bite. "I'm going in."

"Shit, I'm in," he reluctantly agrees. "Lead the way."

"On it."

We creep to the stairs, one of which is brand new: the product of Enzo covering for mycrime. I wish I could say I didn't care if he did it for his own benefit or mine. But now that I have a suspicion that he's still involved with Type, I can't quite say that I don't. Every day, I find myself more and more in love with Enzo but ever since my mother's funeral, Isuspect that he's still doing some stranger's dirty work. But could he be killing my friends?