The Sleepover Gone Wrong

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I ran to the shed, and hurriedly locked the squeaky door behind me. I made sure all the windows of the shed were closed and exposed nothing inside. I huddled into a tiny, cob-webbed corner. I heard leaves crunching right outside the door. Keep calm, I told myself. He won't find you if you're smart.

I didn't move one inch for at least 30 minutes, but it was worth my life. I wonder if the other cops found Melissa? Or are they traitors like this guy? I didn't know what to think. I finally realized the man had gone, and I ran out I case he was still watching. Then all of a sudden, I felt someone's hand brush my shoulder. I didn't have to look back to see who it was, and I couldn't. I remembered the bottle in my hand. I turned around knowing nothing was in my way in front of me, and I tossed the bottle with all my strength. It hit him in the now bloody nose.

I spotted the house about 45 feet away and I kept running with all my might. I hopped, leaped, and jumped over logs and twigs and such. Almost there. I ran inside, finally. Genevieve was already there, tears streaming down her face. Katrina and Emma's mom looked like she had seen a ghost. "Skylar," she said with barely any breath left in her. "I'm so glad you're alright. I will call your mother to pick you up." She pulled me in for a hug my my arm. I tugged away.

"No," I protested. "I want to go back to the woods to find the other 3 girls." Just then, Emma walks down.

"Make that two." She said. Emma and I weakly strode out the door from our lack of sleep. We had no sleep whatsoever. "C'mon," she said. I followed.

We walked back to the shed to see who was there. We opened the door, and what was there, is too hard to explain with words.

****

We ran back to the house, tears on our face freezing from the cold air. We kept running, it was our only option. We ran inside, and started to talk but couldn't get the words out.

"Calm down, and THEN talk." Said Emma and Katrina's mother, giving the same advice that I had given Genevieve earlier.

"Okay," I said. "I looked in the shed, with Emma, and...."

"And what?" She had a horrified look plastered to her face.

"Katrina's dead." I said. My tear ducts exploded, as if the barrier to a dam was broken. The image of the corpse replayed on my head several times.

"No... No.... NO!" Katrina's mother shouted. She ran out in her pajamas that exposed much of her skin, a tanktop and capri pants. Her slippers kept falling off, but she didn't care. She just wanted her child; dead or alive.

None of us cared at this moment. None of us ever would.