Lean Into Me { scream fanfic }

✮ - Kill Kill Kill

      I woke with a start, the remnants of a restless dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness. The soft light filtering through the curtains told me it was early morning, the world outside just beginning to stir. But something felt amiss. As I sat up in bed, a pang of unease tightened in my chest. I glanced around the room, half-expecting to see the small, scruffy cat curled up nearby. But the cushion where it had slept was empty, the morning silence deafening in its absence.

      Heart pounding, I threw on a sweater and hurried downstairs, the cool wood of the steps chilling beneath my bare feet. The kitchen was empty, the remnants of last night's hasty meal still on the counter. My pulse quickened as I realized the back door was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, I stepped onto the porch and scanned the yard, my gaze searching desperately for any sign of the cat. There, near the edge of the garden, lay a still figure, bathed in the soft light of dawn. "No," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat as I rushed forward. "No, please no."

        My grandmother stood nearby, her face etched with concern as she watched me approach. "Natalie," she began gently, her voice trembling with sorrow. "I found the cat this morning. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

         Tears blurred my vision as I dropped to my knees beside the cat. Its fur, once a patchwork of grays and browns, was now matted and still. I reached out hesitantly, touching its cold cheek with trembling fingers.

         "Why?" I choked out, my voice breaking with grief. "Why did you put it outside?"

         My grandmother's expression crumpled with regret, tears glistening in her eyes. "I thought it was a stray, dear," she explained softly. "I didn't know it belonged to you." I shook my head, unable to comprehend the cruel twist of fate that had stolen away the brief comfort the cat had offered. "It's not your fault," I murmured, more to myself than to her. "None of this is." Gathering the cat gently into my arms, I cradled it close, willing warmth back into its lifeless form. But there was nothing I could do, no magic to undo the finality of death. In the quiet of the morning, surrounded by the gentle embrace of my grandmother's arms, I wept for the loss of a fleeting connection, for the innocence stolen by the harsh realities of life and death. The cat had come into my world briefly, offering solace in a time of turmoil, only to be torn away by the cruelty of fate.

         As the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light over the scene before me, I whispered a silent farewell to the small creature that had touched my heart. Its spirit, like Nadia's, would live on in the memories and the echoes of kindness shared, even in the face of unbearable loss.

The morning sun cast a pale glow through the kitchen window, illuminating the worn wooden table where I sat in silence. My grandparents moved about with quiet efficiency, the clinking of dishes and murmured conversations forming a gentle backdrop to my thoughts. Despite their attempts to create a semblance of normalcy, the air felt heavy with the weight of loss.

"Natalie, sweetheart," my grandmother's voice broke through my reverie, drawing my gaze to her concerned expression. "Would you mind going to the store for us? We need a few things for dinner tonight." I blinked slowly, the request registering belatedly as I struggled to collect my thoughts. "The store?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of grief clinging to each syllable.

"Yes, dear," she replied softly, her eyes filled with understanding. "It might be good for you to get out for a bit, breathe some fresh air."

Nodding wordlessly, I pushed my chair back with an effort, the heaviness in my limbs making each movement deliberate. I retrieved my jacket from the back of the chair, wrapping it around myself like a shield against the outside world. With a murmured farewell, I left the comforting familiarity of my grandparents' home behind.

The walk to the grocery store was a blur of muted colors and distant sounds. I passed by neighbors going about their daily routines, children playing in the park—a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within me. Each step echoed with the ache of loss, a reminder of the gaping hole left by Nadia's absence. Entering the store, I moved mechanically through the aisles, my list a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty. Bread, milk, vegetables—the mundane tasks of shopping offered a temporary distraction from the weight of sorrow that threatened to overwhelm me. I hesitated briefly in front of the pet food section, the memory of the cat I had tried to save tugging at my heart.

At the checkout counter, the cashier greeted me with a warm smile that faltered slightly at the sight of my somber expression. "How are you today?" she asked softly, her eyes full of unspoken sympathy.

"I'm... okay," I managed to reply, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. I paid for the groceries in silence, the weight of responsibility heavy in my hands as I gathered the bags and made my way back home. As I walked back from the grocery store, the weight of grief still heavy upon my shoulders, I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my neck. It was as if someone's gaze bore into me, sending shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the sun above. Instinctively, I glanced over my shoulder, scanning the quiet street behind me.

       There, at the edge of my vision, I caught a glimpse of movement—a figure cloaked in darkness, blending seamlessly with the shadows cast by the midday sun. My heart skipped a beat, uncertainty gripping me as I quickened my pace, the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath my feet echoing loudly in my ears.

        Glancing back again, I strained to make out any distinguishing features, but the figure remained obscured, a silent and ominous presence trailing behind me. Fear gnawed at the edges of my resolve, my mind racing with questions and worst-case scenarios.

       I turned a corner, hoping to shake off the unease that clung to me like a second skin, but the figure persisted, a persistent shadow in my periphery. The street stretched on ahead, lined with neatly kept houses and dappled with sunlight, yet the air felt charged with tension.

       My grip tightened on the grocery bags, adrenaline coursing through me as I wrestled with the urge to run. Each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of unseen eyes watching my every move. I forced myself to maintain a steady pace, my senses on high alert, searching for any sign of danger.

       The figure seemed to draw closer, its presence looming larger with each passing moment. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought to keep my composure, focusing on the familiar landmarks that marked the way home.

     Finally, I reached the safety of my grandparents' house. Or, that's what I thought, at least..