The Impostors

Chapter 9: Revenge

Almost 5 minutes had passed since I entered the kitchen. Staring at the cabinet frightened me, the very thought that something could go wrong made me feel sick. The fear felt like a load of bricks on my chest. My heart rate quickened, my stomach was tying itself in knots, my palms were sweating.

Ava, you have to hurry. You're taking to long. If I didn't hurry, I risked them walking into the kitchen at any moment, catching me red handed in the middle of my plan to end their lives, upon which they'd hear the sound of every excuse possible escaping my mouth for the sake of mine.

The rat poison was now in clear view. The only thing standing between me and my freedom was fear. I'd once read a quote that said 'The only thing to fear is fear itself.' As true as it was it left me no comfort.

Time after time of moving left me no hope for the next day. Fear became a part of my daily routine. Even after the numerous times of moving the thought of packing up and heading off to begin a new life in a new town caused that same familiar shiver down my spine and the hairs to raise on the back of my neck.

The poison sank to the bottom of the glass and dispersed throughout the liquid causing an unexpected expression to cross my face. I wasn't certain what my expression resembled, whether it was satisfaction, dismay, or an overwhelming sense of fear, but I didn't care; which startled me. I don't know what I'd think of myself if I was on the other side of the looking glass. Would I be proud or would I be disgusted? The only thing I was sure of was that I was thankful I didn't have to find out.

I couldn't risk the drinks spilling this time. The first round almost turned disastrous, carrying them by hand wasn't even an option this time. The more rat poison in their drinks the sooner they'll be dead and the quicker I can get out of here.

"Where are you tray?' Rummaging through pots and pans was getting me nowhere. Before long the sound of Ryans voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

"What's going on in there, you aren't the little drummer boy, quit messing around and bring me my drink!" Disappointment in myself sank in as I grabbed a plate that could easily hold drinks, why hadn't I thought of that in the first place?

He smirked as I approached the living room. Only a few seconds had passed since I sat the drinks down and the anticipation was already killing me. Waiting for them to chug their last margarita they'd ever drink caused me to be more overwhelmed with more emotions than anything I had ever experienced.

Truth be told, I felt kind of guilty that I'd be the only one seeing their worthless lives end.

Astonishment struck me when they didn't immediately fall over dead, but instead asked for another drink. I thought back to the movies I'd seen where victims grabbed their throats, flames at their mouth, fell out of their chairs, and died. This wasn't a movie though. This was real life. How long is this going to take? I began to get nervous. What if it's not enough rat poison? What if it won't work at all? I didn't have time to wait and they most certainly didn't deserve to be alive all of these extra seconds. They should be dead by now, I had to have put more rat poison into their drinks than I did alcohol, so why aren't they..... barbie doll crashed onto the floor causing my thought to scatter.

Ryan exchanged a bewildered look with Ian, before I searched for a comforting input. "Looks like someone's had a little to much to drink, I went to retrieve their empty glasses as Ryan gripped my wrist forcibly.

The most bewildered expression crossed his face, "What.. did.. you.. do.." His grip loosened as he fell back onto the couch. Panic settled in Ian's eyes, he stood only to stagger forward,  crashing face first into the glass coffee stand. I threw my arms up for protection as shards of glass went shooting across the room. Blood pooled around his body which laid limp and now lifeless. The scene that rested before my eyes made my body fall backwards, the wall behind me catching my weight.

What. Have. I. Done?

I had to act quickly. Taking two steps at a time, I was in my room in no time shoving stuff into my backpack, only grabbing the necessity items. Leaving behind everything else that I valued and everything I had ever known.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, the sight of the scene in the living room again caused my stomach to drop. I walked to the end table and picked up the house phone before dialing three numbers I had never before in my life dialed.

Operator: "911 what is your emergency?"

Operator: "..Hello?"

Me: "..Three people broke into my house-

Operator: "Are you somewhere safe?"

Me: "Yes, ..they're all dead. An act of self-defense."

Click.

Before exiting my house I turned to look around one last time. It could possibly be, is probably, the last time I'll ever step foot into this house again.

I threw my hood on as I opened the door and shut it quickly behind me. Sirens filled the stillness of the air. The shadows of the night were my safest areas, the open road only called for being caught.

The breeze had a calming effect but I only longed to be sleeping in my bed. After all, thats where I should be, like any other normal teenager. I should be in bed getting enough sleep for the next school day, not running from the police after killing three intruders.

It didn't matter, what's done is done, all that mattered now was getting my head back on my shoulders and that required the help of the only person I could trust. I knew the cops would be questioning him by tomorrow, so I had to find out quickly if he was going to help me or if I was on my own.