𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐄

─ ❝ act xlv ❞

⎡ act xlv - sacrifice ⎦

┊❝ I'm just... sorry ❞┊

── "WE... need... hah... to keep going," Carmen panted as she bent over, her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath after both she, Sawyer, and (Y/N) had been running nonstop for who knew how long by that point. "Dylan's house is... really isolated. If we don't want to get caught... we have to keep running."

"When... when do we re-enter town again?" Sawyer huffed as he wiped at the sweat building underneath his chin, completely exhausted.

"By car it'd only take thirty minutes," Carmen sighed, leaning against a tree for support, the rough bark cutting into her skin yet she was much too tired to care. "By foot? Too long. Dylan and Ian have a car. They can easily catch up with us this way."

"It doesn't matter," (Y/N) shook her head, her gaze focused intently on the ground in front of her. "We need to get to the police."

"What'll they do?" Carmen scoffed.

"What do you mean?" Sawyer frowned.

"Don't you know by know what kind of people Dylan and his family are?" Carmen continued as she raked both hands through her blonde hair. "Even if we go to the police with our stories and with evidence, nothing will happen. They have that kind of power. Isn't that why you never went to the police before, (Y/N)? After being let down by authority figures again and again, you knew that going to the police would've just been a waste of time since just like Dylan's father, they wouldn't have done anything since they would've just been paid off."

(Y/N) forced her eyes away.

She knew, though.

She knew what Carmen was saying was true.

"Still... three people with the same story?" Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles taut in case he had to suddenly spring upwards and run again. "It's highly likely that kind of thing won't be ignored. Even if there is high corruption, don't you think a story like ours just being swept away without any proper protocol would raise some suspicions?"

"Of course it would," Carmen rolled her eyes. "But those whose suspicions were raised probably wouldn't have the authority to investigate further. If anything... Dylan's father would just go straight to the top to sweep this entire thing away."

A heavy silence blanketed the space.

As cynical as Carmen's words were, there was an abundance of truth behind them.

Neither (Y/N) nor Sawyer could negate that.

"So?" (Y/N) muttered as she let her eyes lid, her nails cutting into her palms from how harshly she tightened her fists. "What do you suggest we do? Go on with our lives like nothing happened? Dylan and Ian won't let that happen. You know that."

Carmen didn't answer.

She wasn't even sure she had an answer.

Glancing up at (Y/N), watching the way she seemed to shrivel in on herself, Carmen was met with the same thought she had the moment she saw (Y/N) in the hall for the first time: how pitiful. Only this time, there was no spite nor malevolence to this thought, only a type of clarity that she could only comprehend now that she wasn't blinded by stupid jealousy. If she really thought about it, she didn't understand why she even liked Dylan as she did. He hurt her, manipulated her, and abused her.

She believed she deserved it.

After everything she did to others, to (Y/N), she knew it was a type of karmic retribution.

"(Y/N)," Carmen spoke softly, her voice seeming to almost disappear in the wind yet (Y/N) able to capture her words perfectly as she glanced upwards towards her. "I really don't understand you. Why the hell would you save someone like me? I fucking burned you with a cigarette, so what the hell kind of savior complex do you have to think of taking me with you when you could've left me?"

(Y/N) stared at Carmen, her eyes shifting from a glare to a look of puzzlement and back.

Sawyer stayed silent.

He knew when not to interrupt.

"You know..." Carmen scoffed with a bitter smile, her expression seeming to wobble as if she wanted to cry, yet no tears escaping those crystalline eyes of hers. "I've always hated you, (Y/N). Thinking back on it, though, that hatred wasn't justified. Yet... still... I can't bring myself to like you. Maybe something's wrong with me. It doesn't really matter, though. What matters is that I want to apologize to you for everything I've done to you. I have no right to feel guilt for what I've done, but I do. I'm a fucking bitch, and to be honest, I should probably go to jail right alongside those dickheads Dylan and Ian. I'm just... sorry."

"Why are you telling all of this to me now?" (Y/N) demanded, breathing in sharply. "Is it because I did save you? Because I didn't act like you thought I would and leave you there? Is that it?"

"Probably," Carmen chuckled, propping her head up with her elbow on her knee.

(Y/N)'s glower deepened.

Sawyer glanced between the two before looking around the small pocket of wooded area they were in, wary of staying in one place for too long. As much as he wanted to tell Carmen and (Y/N) they should keep moving to make sure their chances of getting caught by Dylan and Ian were close to none, he didn't know when to interject, the moment between the two seeming to heighten in both hostility and confusion.

"You don't need to accept my apology," Carmen continued, finally meeting (Y/N)'s eyes again, the almost ghostly glimmer of sadness present within the hues making (Y/N)'s pinched expression slacken. "I don't really deserve that from you. I just wanted to make sure my apology got through to you. You know, just in case."

(Y/N) looked away.

Carmen was right.

She couldn't accept her apology.

Not now.

Likely not ever.

However, to (Y/N), the apology meant more to her than Carmen could ever know.

"Anyways," Carmen sighed as she hopped off of the rock she had been resting on, her brows once more furrowed in caution. "We should g—"

She never got to finish her sentence.

With a loud bang—a gunshot—arcing throughout the night air, both Sawyer and (Y/N) shouted and screamed in horror when Carmen fell with a thud at their feet, a single bullet hole glaring out at them from her chest. Blood pooled around the wound, soaking her shirt red before dripping to the forest floor underneath her.

"Finally," a voice proclaimed from the darkness, both Sawyer and (Y/N) turning to find Dylan standing there with a crazed grin. "Thank God that bitch is dead."

"She never did the world good anyway," Ian declared, standing beside Dylan with an equally as sadistic look present in his grey eyes. "She's much better off as a corpse for the birds to feed off of." His lips curved into a smile as he extended a hand out to (Y/N), proclaiming, "Now, (Y/N). If you don't want the same thing to happen to Sawyer, I suggest you come back with us. Now. We won't give you another chance if you refuse."

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To be continued...