Chapter Forty-Two

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Chapter Forty-Two

James chased Star down the hallway like a cat after a ball of yarn, but she was ever elusive, leaving a trail of destruction and not much else. Her footprints had sunk into the carpet and it was just springing back up now. I followed James, and he followed Star, his comet in a sea of darkness. It didn't really matter any more, of course. The comet was gone and her trail was burning out.

"You've already lost her," I called to him up ahead, as loudly as I dared to in the dim, empty corridor. We couldn't just chase her or yell for her to come back. We'd all be facing serious punishments when we got dobbed in or caught.

"I can't have lost her," James said, hysterical. "It was a game! Why can't she just accept it's just a fucking game?"

"Star's the only one who runs the games," I muttered, breathing out as I managed to reach out and stop him by grabbing his arm. He was panting like he was chasing some incredibly rare creature. Or perhaps being chased by a terrifying monster. 

"She can't make up all the rules. It's not fair.Why does she always blow shit out of proportion?"

The shining new couple had not lasted very long in their lovey-dovey honeymoon stage.

"I don't know," I said quietly, but I did know. Her name told the whole story and more.

He started walking, his hands trembling. "I'm going back. I hate my life."

I stared at the back of his head as he retreated. His steps seemed shaky now, a silent warning. I followed him down the hall and around each bend without saying a word. He had become a ticking time bomb.

By the time we reached our dormitory, James had almost stopped shaking, but I was still anxious watching him. His face was flushed bright red.

"They never understand," he spat, more to himself than to me. "Nobody can figure me out enough to actually like me." He stormed into the bathroom, kicking the door shut fiercely with no respect for the students we were trying not to wake. I quickly shut the dormitory door, hoping nobody had heard.

He was swearing over and over to himself, all locked away from the outside world. I couldn't hear what he was muttering in between his cursing, but I knew it couldn't be good. Feeling a little sick, I quickly stripped down into my boxers and ducked down under the covers, leaving the lights on for him whenever he felt better enough to come back out and go to bed. The dark would have made his horror even more terrifying for me, anyway.

And so I found sleep in a realm of strange lights and hot air, half-conscious all night, wondering if reality existed.

Then I woke to the sound of a gunshot.

Everything was all hazy, dream-like somehow as I tried to drag myself out of my sleep. My eyes felt like they were sewn shut. I tried to tear out the seams and open them, somehow managing to regain my vision after struggling with the darkness. The room was still almost completely black, besides a thin stream of moonlight pooling in the middle of the room. I grappled with the blankets, tangled in a web. By the time I had kicked them off I was starting to adjust to the dim light.

The banging echoed in my ears. I didn't even know what I'd heard, but it still rung inside me, deep in my bones. It was just part of a dream, most likely. I told myself I was being stupid. But I couldn't stop from getting up out of bed.

The room spun around as I got to my feet. I stumbled, grasping for nothing as I staggered to the centre of the room. Moonlight struck my face through the gap in the curtains. It felt like a spotlight on my lost eyes.

Why would there be a gunshot in my room? Or in the school, for that matter? I could barely think in my half-asleep state. Where was James, anyway? Suddenly managing to pull up a picture of my roommate, I remembered his existence, remembered falling asleep with him locked in the bathroom last night. I tripped on something left on the floor. I couldn't see what it was, and I didn't bother to check.

As I stumbled, my hand hit something thick, smooth, wooden. The end of a bed? The light switch must be around here somewhere. I fumbled to find the wall, but even when I found that, I couldn't track down the light. I trodded back to the bed and tugged at the sheets.

"James?" I croaked. "James, wake up." I was probably being an asshole now, waking him up because I'd had a bad dream. I gave the duvet one more pull, and it came off easily, with no struggle at all. There had been no pressure holding it down. And when I reached out across the bed, there was nothing in it anyway.

Now, my dazed mind was starting to wander. Where the hell had he gotten to? He couldn't still be in the bathroom. But it was the only place left to check before I decided he was totally missing. I shuffled across the room, stuttering again over something else abandoned on the floor, and as I tripped my hand stretched out to meet the cold metal of a door knob. 

This had to be the bathroom door knob. God, I was so tired. My eyes were closing just standing up. In any other case, I would have just gone back to bed. But something kept me up, fumbling with the door. I knew something was wrong. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I'd broken out in a cold sweat. I twisted the knob, but I was almost paralysed with fear. Did I want to open this door?

I only had one choice. James was my friend. I had to.

I turned the knob, slowly easing the door open. The room was pitch black. I took one step inside and trod in something cold and slimey, all gooey and disgusting at my feet. 

"What the hell?" I swore under my breath, reaching for the light switch in a pool of the strange slime. The bathroom bulb illuminated the room and my eyes burnt with the sudden explosion of colour and light before me; I groaned, rubbing my eyes until they adjusted to it all. 

Then I glanced down to my feet, which were in a puddle of blood. 

The room seemed to swing, teetering up and down like it was set upon a wonky see-saw. James' body was strewn across the tiles below me. He had been discarded like an old, abandoned toy, a tortured rag doll forgotten by its owner. His shirt was stained the colour of fading wine, his arms flailing and out limply at his sides. In the side of his head, a gaping hole gushed with blood, streaming scarlet all over his body and the floor. 

James' eyes were still open. 

They held something horrifying in them, something broken and tormented. Despite the churning in my stomach, I couldn't tear myself away, staring into his blank pupils as if they'd make whatever had happened become nothing but a nightmare. 

But it was far too late for that. James had make this decision himself, after all, for under a puddle of blood I could see what he was holding in his hand. His limp fingers were still holding the gun.

I raced to the toilet, my stomach lurching, and started gagging. I dry-retched over the bowl over and over, heaving and heaving, but nothing would come out. I glanced back behind me at the body sprawled out across the bathroom floor. Then suddenly I was staggering, slipping across the floor, and it was skidding out from under my feet. An agonising pain rippled through my head. And everything was okay at last, because I couldn't see, and it smelt like blood and sick, and everything was so peaceful and easy and black.

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Yes, short chapter, but I bet you weren't expecting this to be how the chapter played out. I've been so excited for writing this chapter ever since I started the book, but I don't know if it actually turned out that great... you probably predicted it would happen, but it was the next step in the storyline to reach my final outcome I have planned. ;)

Vote, comment and share! Thank you for your support x -Danica

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