Itty Bitty Stories

Baxter the Blackmailer

Wow. I seriously didn't think I was going to finish this. Eh, it's not my best work, but I'm fine with it for right now. :) OHMYGOD THERE'S LIKE TWO WEEKS OF SCHOOL LEFT. It's not going to sink in until, like, a month of nothing goes by and imma be like....wait, schools out? ;)

Baxter the Blackmailer

(())

“WHERE IS IT?!”

“I don’t know what you’re looking for!”

“IT’S GOT TO BE HERE!”

“What the hell are you looking for, Demi?”

“I CANNOT LOSE IT!”

Audree grabs a hold of my shoulders, shaking me all around. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?”

I stop panicking, taking deep breaths in & out. My computer desk is trashed; papers all over the floors and my lamp is sitting sideways on the ground, flickering on and off. My most prized possession is missing. So, technically, my life is gone.

“My flash drive,” I whisper, partly going insane. “It’s gone.”

Aubree deeply sighs through her nose. “Where was the last time you saw it?”

“UH…” I think back. “English class. I was typing another story up. But I made sure to put it back into my bag when I finished!”

“Calm down,” Aubree swiftly says, sprawling onto my bed again. “You probably forgot it there. Go to school tomorrow and try to find it. Problem solved.”

I refuse to calm down. I’m in my hulk mode activated rage. Anybody, right at this moment, could be reading my stories that I’ve written. They’re all on there. Each and every single one of them.

“I can’t calm down, Bree, my whole life is on that flash drive. If it’s gone…” I trail off, feeling ready to burst into tears.

Bree just rolls her eyes at me, flipping through her magazine. “You are such a nerd.”

I don’t care. She’s called me a nerd so many times, it’s practically my nickname. I kind of don’t blame her. I have my moments. I sigh, tying my hair in the worst bun possible and adjust my purple framed glasses. I have my small, hoop earrings in that Aubree got for my 18th birthday, which was a couple of weeks ago, actually. She got them from England, where I grew up. My parents and I moved to American for my 6th year of school.

“Bree, you know that thing is my baby,” I shoot a look her way, which she ignores. “How would you feel if you lost your baby?”

“I wouldn’t,” She retorts. “I would be responsible enough to not lose my own child.”

“Smart ass,” I mutter her way, collapsing into my swivel chair. I take a deep breath, my nerves finally calming down, except for a tight knot in the corner of my stomach. I bring my knees up to my chest, my long pajama pants getting in the way. “You better be right. If it’s not there…”