Don't Let It Catch You.

Chapter Two: Chatterbox

As the morning sun rose, the campers started their day as normal, not noticing the lack of producers or interns, for that matter. When it struck twelve, that was when they started to realise something was wrong.

". . . Uh, guys? Where are Chris and Chef? They haven't even given us breakfast or even got a challenge for us."

Zoey, the red head would ask as she walked towards the group, a puzzled look on her face, and a small amount of concern apparent in her voice.

"I don't know, Zoey, I just was hoping they decided to be nice for once, giving us all a break. . . But, now that you mention it, it is unusual."

Mike would say, turning his back to the group, facing Zoey, agreeing with her as he did. He'd have his arms crossed, glancing around before settling his gaze back onto her.

"I don't like this. Something isn't sitting right with me now."

The boy would shudder as he spoke before Zoey reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Awh, don't worry, Mike. I'm sure it'll be fine."

She would smile at him, tilting her head slightly as she did so. Soon, they'd turn back to the group.

"Ugh, I'm starving! And I can't be hungry, it'll ruin my pictures if the paparazzi finds me!"

The blonde girl would say, placing her sunglasses on top of her head. She'd soon speak again.

"I can't believe Chris sent them away yesterday morning."

Shaking her head, a tone of disbelief in her voice. She'd take a mirror out as she examined her face, making sure she wasn't too red or too anything, or even too little of something.

"Shut it, Blondie."

The tan, Jersey girl would snap, spraying her hairspray on for one of the many times today, suffocating the guy beside her. As he coughed, he'd take a step away towards Mike and Zoey, giving them a glance.

"You know, my great, great, great, great grandfather invented hairspray. Yeah, it was really cool of him."

Smiling to herself, she'd stand up, proud of her ancestors' history and what they accomplished, not really realising how much it annoyed everyone else. She was just happy to tell everyone about her history.

". . . Right. . . I'm going to grab some food from the cafeteria. It's not like Chef can actually do anything. I doubt he's even here. Bet they've left, y'know?"

The competitive girl would say, rolling her eyes as she stuffed her hands into her jumpers pocket, probably trying to get away from the chit chat and people.

"Oh, I'll come with you! My great, great aunt Lois actually invented plates!"

She'd grin at Jo, following after her, the two of them walking away from the group, and in the direction of the cafeteria.

As she chatted away, she wouldn't notice Jo leaving her side, walking else where.
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THIRTY MINUTES LATER

A while later, Jo would make her way to the cafeteria, hoping that Staci would no longer be there. She didn't really want to listen to her anymore. She was annoying.

Although, when she reached the cafeterias steps, in her stomach, she knew something was wrong, but she decided to ignore it for now. When she opened the door, she was hit with the smell of red. Regrettably, she once more paid no attention to it, taking a step inside, closing the door behind her.

Even though she was a tough and independent girl, nothing would have ever prepared her for what she was about to see.

Hanging there from the moose head on the wall was the head of the girl who spoke to her moments prior, her mouth ripped and hanging open an unsettling amount, and her eyes gauged out. Her body was nowhere to be found.

Maybe if Staci wasn't such a Chatterbox, then just maybe Jo wouldn't have left her alone, and then she would still be here. Then maybe her habit of talking wouldn't be the reason for her downfall, her death. Maybe if she was able to keep her mouth shut, she might've lived. At least now she can do what she always enjoyed, never shutting her mouth. Now, she was able to speak forever. Her voice always echoing throughout the cafeteria.