Light My Way Back Home •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Twenty Seven: I Breathe Disaster, Ever After

||Hayley Williams|| First Person||

These next few minutes leave me terrified, my heart rate skyrocketing as the organ in my chest pounds at such an obviously irregular pace. I curl in on myself, my arms around my head for fear of the bullets that are spitting through the wood of the front door would hit me although I'm nowhere near the entrance, but in the living room. Where there's a big ass window. Where they could probably shoot through, whoever they are.

I recount every single things that I've ever done in my life that has led up to this moment. What have I done to anger people, was it my mere existence or was it something I said? Was it just my personality? But that would seem narcissistic, almost egotistical to believe that I had pissed off fûcking lunatics by just breathing the air in this place. It would have to be robbers, and all I can think is that Pete couldn't have picked a worse time to finally be able to figure out where Cole was. The phone number came with its technicalities, mainly the fact that Derek was insanely intelligent to have a sim card for California rather than Illinois, making us go on a wild goose chase and actually ponder the idea that he could have already taken my best friend to another state at this point. But she's still in Illinois, still somewhere in driving distance, and everyone is there while I'm here.

I avert my eyes upwards to the flight of stairs that are situated near the front door as the sound of bare feet against the wood catches my attention. My heart lodges itself in my throat and I'm frozen in fear for a moment as Bronx slowly treks his way down to the first floor.

"Hayley," Bronx rubs his eyes sleepily as he comes down the stairs, unaware of the danger he's in because of how close he is to the door. My head shoots up to see the young boy, the child that was birthed by Ashley Simpson and Pete- my friend, in harm's way. I jump up to my feet. "Where's daddy-?"

"Bronx!" I shout. "Get away from the door."

"Why?" He asks, and he takes a step forward, directly in front of the door now. I almost stand there and scream for a moment, but this rush of adrenaline engulfs me and I find myself taking action. I sprint towards him just as a bullet pierces the dark front door, grabbing him and twisting our bodies together to turn his away from the bullet shredding wood and coming right for me, shielding the little boy before shoving him to the stairs.

"Get upstairs, Bronx. Call uncle Patrick and go get your brother and h- AH- ide!" My words are cut down sharply as the piece of metal impales my right shoulder angrily. I drop to the floor and let out a yelp of pain, glaring at the young boy. "NOW!"

The little one smartly shoots up the stairs, his feet thudding heavily as he runs up the steps and in the direction of Saint's room. I push myself up to my feet and do my best to run down the hall in the direction of the kitchen to grab a weapon. The door is shoved open roughly and angrily, the door hanging loosely on it's hinges with bullet holes scattered around it,and I turn my head to see a boy, roughly my age, with a black hoodie, black skinny jeans, grey Vans, and a beanie over messy brown hair holding a gun skillfully in his hand. He looks at me with a smirk. "Cole says sorry," he says, before he lifts the gun up and points it at me.

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

My eyes are trained on Luke's head, my fingers twitching angrily in my lap as the duct tape over my mouth prevents me from speaking. I would have ripped it off disobediently ages ago if it weren't for Luke having the bright idea to tie my wrists tightly together. He restricted me with no remorse.

I watch as Derek pulls up into the driveway of my brother's house, the exact spot where Patrick and I were hugging before. I can't remember when because everything is an unorganized blur to me when it comes to remembering dates and trivial matters like such. My knees bang together nervously as my legs jump, my throat closed tightly because of how terrified I am of what's about to go down. I shove the pen that I slipped into my socks between my thighs as Derek gets out of the car with his gun and heads towards the front door, standing there for a moment. My heart jumps as I think that the kids are home, Hayley is home, my family is home. That's a terrifying thought.

I smile softly as I watch Patrick intently, the older boy leaning into the refrigerator in search of a cold bottle pf water. I smile softly, biting my tongue and not bothering to mention that it was literally under his nose on the top rack. His fedora was sitting on the dining table and he was in his messy hair glory, glasses perched on his nose as he hums. "Conceal, don't feel-" he's singing under his breath, and I jump up from my seat on the bar stool.

"No," I say immediately. Patrick looks up in confusion but quickly understands. "Don't you dare."

"Don't let them knoooooooow! Well, now they knoooow!" Patrick belts out, and his gorgeous voice isn't enough to make me endure the overplayed Disney tune. "LET IT GOOO! LET IT GOOOO! CAN'T HOLD IT BACK ANYMOOOORE!" I turn and head out of the kitchen, voicing my disapproval of the song.

"Patrick! I swear to God, if you don't-" Patrick is before me, throwing his arms out dramatically and tilting his head back, singing rather loudly and obnoxiously. "Dude, I will punch you."

"HERE I STAND AND HERE I'LL STAY!" Patrick screams.

"I will throw this ring on the ground." I lie through my teeth, but it shuts him up for the rest of the day. Later that night, he asks if I really would break up with him and I promised I'd always stay with him no matter how annoying he is.

I grip the ballpoint pen in between both hands, holding it like a wooden stake, before I push myself up in the backseat. "Sit back down," Luke says in a bored tone, not bothering to look behind him.

"No thanks," I say, raising the pen above my head before slamming it down into the side of Luke's neck just as Derek begins firing at the wooden front door. The sound of the pistol's recoil and the sound of bullets piercing the door drowns out Luke's screams of pain. I grimace as I yank the pen out of his neck, moving it forward before slamming it down again into his neck. I do this multiple times and ignore the blood streaming down his neck until his head slumps and I'm unsure if he's dead or not. But I couldn't care less because Derek is kicking the front door open and is stepping into my brother's house. Time is running out.

I grab the door handle and push with all of my body weight, the door giving and opening outwards. I trip out of the confined vehicle and stumble, falling flat on my face. I struggle and pull myself up, limping my way to the front door. It's ridiculous of me to believe that I could actually take Derek Skinner down with a ballpoint pen, but I did it with Luke whatever-his-last-name and I was determined to give Hayley a chance to live. I hurry up the front porch and peer inside the door just as Derek pulls the trigger and a bullet fires.

But then I see Hayley's red hair blur past as she runs into the kitchen just as the bullet whizzes past her head. She heads for the second door that leads to the side of the house, and just as Derek begins to walk, I raise my arms above my head and stab the weapon into the back of his neck. I wince as I shove half of the pen down into his neck before I rip it out and shove it into the side of his neck. Derek, like any other human being, writhes and screams in pain, turning around sharply with my weapon in his neck to face me. "Where's Luke?" He manages to say.

"Dead," I squeak, sidestepping around him before running off, him on my heels. I was weaponless and it was a matter of time before Derek would catch up with me, so I head for the backdoor Hayley couldn't get to, shoulder checking it before heading out towards the poolside deck. I had to get him away from everyone else.

"Come and get me, bitcch." I taunt weakly, turning around just as Derek fires a bullet into my leg, sending me into the water. I inhale a mouthful of pool water as I struggle to break for the surface, but when I do, Derek's hands are pushing me down, keeping me under.

I remember vaguely one paragraph from S.E Hinton's The Outsiders, and I couldn't relate more.

I ducked and tried to run for it, but the Soc caught my arm and twisted it behind my back, and shoved my face into the fountain. I fought, but the hand at the back of my neck was strong and I had to hold my breath. I'm dying, I thought, and wondered what was happening to Johnny. I couldn't hold my breath any longer. I fought again desperately but only sucked in water. I'm drowning, I thought, they've gone too far... A red haze filled my mind and I slowly relaxed.

I let go.

-/::\-
-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes

•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken