Beautiful

Young. Thirsty & Beautiful...

  
"Run!"

Samuel's voice squeaked as he turned his head towards Jasmine, a girl known by all her friends as the Fright Queen. When she was eight, she watched her first horror movie, and ever since, never had a doubt that she could take any challenge without being scared. Now she had wide eyes, her breath came to her heavily; a cut stretched from her hairline to her eyebrow spilling blood on the right side of her face. The scream down the hall had caused her to precipitously fall down the stairs.

Heavy footsteps followed them as they ran off toward the kitchen door where Myndel's body laid against the blood stained door that was once white; her cold, blood stained fingers clinging to a kitchen knife.

Upon this, Jasmine stopped dead, eyes frozen in grief; she sniffled. Her best friend was dead from stab wounds above her torso and abdomen. A wet, silent tear traced down her cheek as she watched Samuel move her friend's lifeless body out of the way and yank the door knob. "Nothing! It's locked!", he groaned in frustration while hitting his forehead against the window glass. A sudden shiver passed through Jasmine's veins, freezing her blood. She quickly spun around and found herself staring eye to eye with Marcus. His sharp gaze was fixed between them and the door, at Myndel's body and back at them.

Jasmine bent down and picked up the knife from the floor, putting it between them and him. " N- Not...o-one step...", she stuttered, hands shaking, blood from her wound sliding down her eyelashes, making her eyes heavy. "Not. One. Step."

He nodded and gripped the iron tube he had at hand, then pointed at Myndel. "She did that?", his voice cracked, showing the weakness he forced himself to hide since he started high school. Being a military brat made him brag and believe that nothing could stop him.

He was one of the first people to accept the challenge Adriana blurted out during their sleepover.

It all started with them wanting to scare Jasmine. Everyone accepted, decided to break into Mrs. Chester's house, (the old woman that died from a heart attack at the age of sixty seven), and ever since, her house became a home for infestation. The decaying walls and broken glass pushed people back and dared them to even set foot on the front lawn. None of her children wanted the house after she died and preferred to put it on sale, yet no one dared to buy it.

"Marcus", Samuel whispered, looking behind his shoulder. "... Move-"

A shot broke through. Silence.

Jasmine's agonizing scream filled the room, the ringing in her ears grew louder as she watched Samuel's body fall with a thud. She was about to kneel when Marcus jumped and grabbed her wrist, trying to keep his balance while dragging her numb body, sweat and blood plastering his blonde hair to his forehead.

"No! Let me go!", Jasmine wailed, looking back at a blurry figure through her teary eyes lying next to Myndel, "don't leave him!"

"Your brother- Samuel is dead!", Marcus screamed to himself trying to believe that his best friend was dead.

Two dead. One gone, and the two of them on the run.

Jasmine stopped fighting, but her body was saggy, wanting to believe that all was a dream.

"Marcus...", she wheezed, clutching his shirt and making him halt. She rested her forehead on his firm back and let tears flow down her cheeks. She wanted to give up, to die along with them, but she couldn't, she wouldn't leave the person that she trusted the most a the moment. "...the garage".

She grabbed his wrist and ran with him toward a faint light of hope. They had infiltrated the house through there and hoped it to be their escape. They crashed with objects, making loud noises through the poorly lit hall. Marcus opened the door with shred strength and scanned the room, an old car and a few rusty bicycles were visible through the crack of light that the door at the end of the garage offered. They ran for the exit and stepped in the almost blinding sunlight, the cold mid January wind slapped their faces, making it hard to breathe, and they ran toward the gates, passing the dry cypress trees.

A small figure was leaning against the rusty iron fence, her auburn hair wildly loose, her skin paper white and tainted with blood. She threw her hair back with one hand, as her right hand's bony fingers tightly gripped a gun that she slowly lifted towards them.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five", Adriana sang rapidly, a direful smirk spreading through her full red lips, a glint of amusement lighted her green eyes. "What took you so long?"

"Adriana!", Marcus yelled, gripping the iron tube to hold himself from crumbling - his knee was injured.

"Adrie...", Jasmine cried, the name scraping her sore, dry throat, "Adrianna please..."

"Please", Adrianna smiled and pulled the trigger. Birds flew from the dry branches into the morning light, away from the unhinged laughter.

*

"No!"

The room was brightly lit by the morning sun, escaping through the heavy curtains, white walls closing in on the girl with dark curls lying on a hospital bed. Her light eyes, red from all the tears she had cried, were now dry and staining her light Ivory skin. Adriana stood up, letting the thick cotton cover fall lightly onto the floor. She crossed her arms, tightening the white cardigan around her waist, and walked to the door.

Her bony fingers stretched, twisting the knob without any result. There, she gave up and let herself fall to the comforting, icy, cold floor.

She let go an agonizing sob from her ragged throat. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five", she cried continuously until her voice fainted with the passing hour.

"-Five... Run!"