The End

Chapter 6

Chapter 6-

I've never seen Laura this shook up. Beckham and Lau stared at the small screen of his cell phone. Beckham looked broken. Like he couldn't move. Throughout the ride to my apartment building and throughout the elevator ride to the fourth floor, apartment 4B. Beckham just following us. Lau held his hand, rubbing it with his thumb. Saying, "it's gonna be okay," over and over again. Yet, they never told us what happened. All I know is that something on his phone silenced them both.

When we entered my apartment and we all settled down with a beer. Beckham said it a low inaudible whisper, "He has her."

I frowned and faced him. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"We have to go to the police!" he blurted out.

"No. You can't..." Lau tells him in a soothing voice. Beckham arched a brow at her. "Beckham, the police are bribed by the bad guys. Michel, the police officer who adopted me, he was on the verge of resigning because of it. Beckham there's nothing we can do, but end all of this. And get her back."

"Oh God," he put his head in his palms and breathed in deeply.

"What the hell is going on?" Zach asked after a short silence.

"Trick has Irma. He sent us this," Lau took then phone that were on Beckham's lap and handed it to me.

I gasped. Memories of myself chained to a chair, with handcuffs that dug into my flesh. Only now Irma was chained to a steel chair, in some low lit room, with handcuffs on her wrists and ankles. She looked badly beaten up. "Oh my --"

"-- God."

I felt rage power through me. That monster had her. He had Irma. We have to act now or he'll kill her. He will kill Irma. I cannot allow Beckham to go through all of that. I will not let Beckham lose Irma. I will not allow myself to go through that. I've lost enough people in my eighteen (and a half) years of living on this God forsaken planet.

"We will get him back, okay, Beckham," Zach assured him. Sitting next to Beckham and awkwardly rubbing his back.

"We won't stop until we get that dick." I told Beckham.

*

I couldn't sleep that night. All I could think about was Irma and how once again I managed to put someone else's life in danger. What made me think I could fix all of this? I'm an unstable teenager. I'm a kid who thinks she knows better. I don't know anything. I have no idea what I'm doing. Why am I so stupid? Why don't I ever just listen? Why did I have to take the easy way out? If it wasn't for my scholarship at school and at college I would have been an uneducated druggie. I wish I just didn't get reeled into that world so easily. My mother always told me that family was important and no matter what you have to help and protect them. And that's what I thought I did. I thought by making easy money I'd be helping my family, helping Sadie. But I did the exact opposite. I fucking got her killed! She was so young, so scared and so confused. She had her whole life ahead of her. And just like that... it got taken away from her. It all got taken away from her. Why? BECAUSE OF ME! I'm a fuck up. I'm a screw up. I do not deserve to live. I shouldn't even be here in this warm bed. I shouldn't have people helping me. To simply put it: I shouldn't live. Yet, here I was in my oversized T-shirt. Staring at my cracked ceiling and now, crying my eyes out.

I don't deserve to live. I don't deserve to have friends who care for me this much. I don't deserve any of this. I should just end my life before I'm responsible for any more deaths. I don't deserve life. I do not deserve any of it.

I'm just that selfish I guess. I wish I had the balls to kill myself. Everytime I want to, everytime I'm on the verge of slitting my wrists or hanging myself. I ask myself: Is this what Sadie would want me to do? Is this what mom would want me to do? They would never want me to end my life because I could handle something. That just means I'm weak. And Bingley's are not weak. But I couldn't help feeling guilty and depressed.

There are people are worse off, Wendy... my mother's voice reminded me in my head. And she was right. There is some kid on the streets with no shelter or food. There are orphans who are alone with no one to hold. There are people like Laura who got gang raped. And here I am lying in bed feeling sorry for myself. I ought to be ashamed.

With that in mind, I pressed my eyes closed tightly. Forcing back the tears and swallowing the massive lump in my throat. There are people worse off, Wendy...

*

I heard moaning, then soon after loud screams.

Laura.

I jumped up, looking at the time 02:35. Laura was thrashing in the couch. Moaning. "Don't! Please!"

She was having nightmares. I've had them too; only mine cones and goes when it pleases. It's quite unpleasant.

"Laura..." I say in a soothing voice, smoothing out her hair with my hand. She was sweating.

She jumped up and sat up straight. When she acknowledged my presence she fell into my arms. Hugging me hard. "Oh thank God. It was just a dream." She said breathlessly. "Can I... can I sleeo qith you tonight?"

I smile and nod. "Of course," I help her up and lead her to my room. She climbs into the warm bed and I snuggled up against her. Her head on my chest. She was still trembling. For a lethal killer she could quite scared.

We fell asleep like that without any bad dreams.