Shadows

Breathe

I don't know when I woke up or how. 

I'm standing, but I'm in darkness. 

I'm breathing, but I cannot see. 

The only thing I know for sure is, I am not numb. 

I am panicking. 

Where am I?

This isn't want I wanted, this isn't what I hoped for.

Slowly, I crouch down to the floor. My hands feel of a unequal surface, bumpy and sharp. A little dusty, so I wipe my hands on my leg.

Which is covered in clothing? 

I feel of my chest, and I can tell that I am wearing clothing almost everywhere.

It covers everything but my head. It feels like leather, but has no smell.

My eyes try to adjust to the darkness, and all I see is an empty corridor. From what I can tell, there are no doors. Just a rectangle room that never ends, until it fades into darkness. 

"Hello?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

No replies, no answers. 

"Am I alone?" 

The thought of being alone scares me.

Never in my life have I been actually alone, ever. I have always had people with me, or those things with me. 

"Hello?" Tears threatened to spill, my throat becomes tight.

"Anyone?" I back up until I find a corner, and hold my knees. I'm starting to panic, I can feel my heart start to race. My breaths becomes heavy, and I feel like I'm losing more air every time I breathe in. 

Am I not dead?

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Anders POV

It didn't take me long to sober up when I found out that I basically killed a girl. It was like a cup of cold water was poured on me, and I feel like I might be drowning in it.

It took them a whole entire week to find her body. Her mother didn't even know, she just noticed that she was gone and her door was locked. 

And she didn't do a damn thing about it. 

She told the police that, "My daughter, Embry went out all the time. I didn't know why she would've locked her door. But I didn't think anything about it until the house started stinkin'. She's in a better place now, though." 

At school, everyone was surprised of her death, not because she was missing for so long. She used to be gone from school days on end. It was common.  

I'm not for sure about anything anymore. 

I've been seeing things. I told one of my friends, but she told me it was the after effects of being so high for so long. Whatever it is, I fear I'm going crazy. 

"You're probably feeling guilt. I mean, you didn't kill her. But it's just guilt. It gets to people. Don't think nothing of it."

I did kill her. I am the one would handed her death in a bag. I've thought about going to the police and telling them I did it.

I murdered a girl. 

I even told my dad that I was done selling, that I was done with it. I'm done with everything.

It's crazy how something so simple and lead to bigger things. How your world can get turned upside-down in a matter of seconds. How you can kill someone by doing what you're told. 

He didn't take it well, my father. At first he told me to, "Stop fuckin' playin' with me, Andi. You know I don't like this shit." I assured him that I wasn't playing, and after a few times of repeating myself he understood.

By understanding me, he kicked me out. Simple as that, yet I'm not surprised. If can't help him pay the bills, then why do I stay? I grabbed my backpack, dumped all the school materials out and packed a few things of what I could. Just clothes, and a couple bottles of water. We don't have food in our fridge, never have. I've always ate at school, got my meal for the day from them. 

I walked out of the house, getting a good look of a man who possibly ruined my life. I wasn't angry at him, though. What he did to me is nothing compared to what I did to her. I walked until I got at least a mile from the house. I walked until I thought I was far enough to think. 

My life had just been ripped from my hands, thrown on the ground for the wolves. 

The air was cold, winter was finally coming. I sat out there for awhile, feeling sad but not enough to cry. I had more self-loathing than anything. I deserved to sleep outside in the cold, I deserved all the pain I could possibly get. But I knew that doing such wouldn't do me any good. I couldn't sleep outside then, so I decided to go to a friends.  

So here I am, in Patterson's house. I was in his room, and with us were a few stoners. Smoke floats in the air, so much of it that it burns my eyes. I am sitting in the corner of his room, my backpack leans against me. I probably look like I'm close to dead, but I don't think they notice. Too high to care, so they just laugh randomly and mumble a few words. My stomach rumbles, and I shrug it off. I haven't ate in awhile, I know I should be hungry. I know that I should eat, but she can't eat. Why should I? We all sit there, in the small gray room. One by one, the stoners go. Patterson gets up and opens the window after a while, letting the smoke escape. He looks at me, and frowns. His real name is Ekewaka, but after a while everyone started calling him by his surname. He was from Hawaii, his parents moved him here two years ago. He is about the most tan person I know. His hair is black, just like his eyes, and is shaved into a mohawk. He slowly runs a hand through it, then his hand falls idle.  

"Something has to be really wrong with you. You didn't even take one hit." He says, and sits down on his bed. The bed screams underneath him, but he still looks at me. 

"I'm alright. My dad kicked me out, and I'm pretty tired." I say, not lying about the tired part. I am pretty tired, and after having much of nothing to eat and walking a few miles has gotten to me.

His eyes narrow, "Is this how you act when sober?" He jokes, then grins. "I don't believe I've ever seen you clean for long." 

"Shut up, Pat." I force a slight smile and shake my head. "But seriously, thanks for letting me stay."

"Oh shit, man. It's whatever, I know you'd do the same for me. Uh, hey. I'm going to go over Waverly's place for a while. If you need me just walk over." He got up and left, closing the door to his room completely. Waverly is his girlfriend, smart and nerdy. I have no clue how he got her.

I laid down in the carpet floor, and used my arm as a pillow. Eventually, I fell asleep. 

I dream of Embry as a animal, me the hunter. Instead of shooting her, I handed her the gun. As soon as she shot, I jump awake.