"I'm so sick and tired of this shit!" I cried, the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins finally ebbing away, leaving me exhausted and raw. The pain from my injuries crashed over me like a wave, but it was the emotional toll that really broke me.
I felt tears streaming down my face as I thought of Anika and Quinn. They were gone—dead because they were friends with us. The reality of it hit me like a punch to the gut, and I couldn't shake the thought of losing anyone else.
Ethan's safety consumed my mind; I'd do anything to protect him, even if it meant climbing back on that damned ladder to check if he was okay.
Everything that had unfolded today felt overwhelming. The chaos, the terror—it all felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
Should I cut ties with Ethan? Should I tell him to run, to get as far away as possible before he became the next target? The weight of my thoughts made my heart ache, and I wished I could turn back time, to a moment before all of this began.
Mindy approached me, her face streaked with tears, and collapsed against my shoulder. I wrapped my non-injured arm around her, rubbing her back gently as she sobbed into me. I focused on comforting her, desperate to keep the blood from my wounds away from her.
"Call the fucking cops," Mindy mumbled, her voice muffled but laced with urgency.
I nodded, my heart racing again at the thought. "You're right. We need to get help." But deep down, I worried: would they even arrive in time? Would it matter? It felt like we were trapped in our own horror movie, with no escape in sight.
"Let's find a way out of here," I said, my voice trembling but determined. "We can't let them take anyone else from us." The fight within me sparked again, ignited by the need to survive and protect the ones I loved.
OUTSIDE
I stood by the ambulance, feeling the cool night air mixed with the warmth of chaos that surrounded us. Chad stood beside me, his presence grounding as we both watched Tara and Mindy getting stitched up.
I had already received my stitches for the cut on my hand, and the band-aid on my cheek felt like a reminder of all the terror we'd faced.
The group sat in silence, the weight of our shared trauma heavy in the air. Chad rubbed my back gently, trying to soothe my spiraling thoughts.
"Do you know if Ethan ever showed up to the house? Do you think he saw my messages?" Panic bubbled up inside me, and tears streamed down my face again. I felt utterly helpless, my emotions all tangled up like a ball of yarn.
I hated feeling like a big baby, always crying. But how could I help it? I was exhausted from being hunted by Ghostface, from losing friends one by one to the monster lurking behind the mask.
Chad held me closer, his warmth wrapping around me like a protective shield. "We'll find out soon," he reassured me, wiping away my tears with a gentle touch.
Resting my head on his shoulder, I took a shaky breath, trying to drown out the horror that echoed in my mind. I was so tired of this Ghostface shit.
Just then, I heard footsteps, and I lifted my head to see Ethan slipping under the caution tape, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. My heart raced at the sight of him, a mix of joy and fear flooding my senses.
"Ethan!" I called out, my voice catching in my throat.
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