𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃. ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ²

09

09 . 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁, 𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆
𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 .

! 𝙩𝙬: 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙠

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 since the day on the Tarmac. Since the day when Rafe Cameron came around the end of the plan, with the gun in his hand and the grim look of accountability on his stricken face. She hadn't heard the sound of gunshots since they killed the Sheriff, right in front of her eyes, and she bled out on the pavement in front of her. She hadn't heard gunshots since Rafe fired them after her and John B, as they ran through the tall grass towards the forest, the shots echoing around their ears but never grabbing a target. She hadn't heard the sound of gunfire since everything all went down— since the most traumatic part of her summer.

She heard gunshots too many times over said-summer. From when JJ fired into the air at that keg party, to the square groupers in John B's home, to the basement with the gold. Her ears had been stung too many times. But ever since that day on the Tarmac, where she witnessed what a single one of those shots could really do to a person, she could never hear any of it the same— and she was only realizing that now. For these two shots— now, as they hid on the rooftop— were fired after a long month of not hearing anything at all. It hurt to hear such a loud sound after a month of stillness.

When the shots rang out under the pouring rain, she didn't need another second to know that Ward Cameron had fired them. She knew for certain that it was him, the gun was in his hand, his finger had pulled the trigger, and he had just rid himself of a rock in his boot— and that body was dead, there, in the under development building. Gavin had bullets in him, she knew that.

When the sound of them echoed through the air, it was louder than the rain and louder than the thunder. But it was not louder than her beating heart, which was pounding in her ears and causing a ringing to start. She felt like her body went numb, as she laid there on the rooftop, her head out of sight from down below— completely unable to move. Her eyes were wide, wider than they'd ever been— not just because it was shocking, it was something much worse.

As she laid there, her eyes struck and her body frozen, her friends reacted around her. But she stayed still, feeling that her chest was suddenly restricted, that it couldn't expand with air as it normally would. She felt her heart in her throat, blocking air from coming in and blocking air from going out. Her lips were departed now, gasping for something to ease her aching chest, but it didn't come until she tilted her neck up. Now, she could breath, but rapidly, far too rapidly. Her chest rose and fell unsteadily, and at a pace that would alarm anyone paying attention. But no one was paying attention to her, not just yet.

All of a sudden, her arms felt cold. Then her legs went cold. And then her spine didn't feel right in her body, it felt cold too— tiptoeing with a chill that reverberated through every part of her. It cascaded up her neck and into her mouth. It wasn't the rain that was making her cold. And then, in the snap of a finger, she suddenly couldn't feel her hands anymore. She looked down at them, they were there, but it didn't feel like they were there.

She sat up straighter, her chest always heaving in and out, and her heart battering against her chest so hard that it was at risk of breaking from her rib-cage. Now, she couldn't feel her stomach. It felt empty. Almost like she was floating. Her limbs felt like they weren't limbs, and her tongue didn't feel right in her mouth— now it was dry. Her mouth was dry, and her stomach felt empty. She looked around with her wide eyes.