Frozen

Six: Risk

This is where it gets interesing(; okay guys my writing has not been as good lately, and i think its becasue of the watty awards, like i used to spead 3-4 days on a chapter bc i was working hard on it nd now im just sqeezing in stuff :/ so im propbably going to take it down because its not gunna be finished anyways :(

Comment vote fan guys <3 i love you guys(:

-naomi

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Six: Risk

 The cold stung her skin; it pierced through her like a blade, slashing up whatever warmth she held into shreds. Backyard dressed in white, she stared at it while she memorized every detail she could possibly achieve. Even with the distractions the noise still lingered in her head; the heartbreaking sound of a woman screaming engraved into her mind.

The shrieks of pain and terror raced through her, fighting for what would haunt her first, and what would hurt her more. Elizabeth felt sick to the stomach, as she imagined their deaths –her parent’s death.  

            The pretty girl could picture it in her head so perfectly, so clearly, that it mocked her, laughed in her face as it threw more images into her mind, flooding them. She had to be drowning in the pictures, barley being able to breathe, to speak, she couldn’t even think. It filled her lungs as it encased her like water; she had to be drowning, it hurt too much for her to still be alive. She thought everything that could’ve happened to them, the horrid ways they could have died.

            There were a thousand techniques a person could be slayed, being shot, stabbed, drowned, choked, the list continued on forever. But no one imagined that their family would be the target, no one thought people actually died in those cruel casualties. The illusion of death to them was just a dream.

            “Elizabeth,” Owen’s voice snapped her out of her daze. “You may want to see this,”

            She got up hesitantly, careful not to trip on the transparent layer of liquid sitting under her feet. The expression on his face was grave, dead almost, like something terrible had happened, something that took away his purpose for living. A somber look shone in his eyes, but for who it was for was unclear.

            “What is it,” The whisper was quiet, scarce as she walked through to doorway.      Murmurs came from the corner of the room, the television projected colored lights from its screen, illuminating the walls. She could tell it was the news just by the picture.

            “Look at the T.V.” He commanded; she glided over silently, a pit of fear developing in her chest as she sat down on the couch.

            Owen turned the volume louder, noise blaring from the surround sound speakers. His arm slithered behind her, almost if ready to comfort her.

            Then she saw it.

            Honey hair splashed across the monitor, kind eyes matched the same shade of blue hers held in the picture. Tears threatened to spill down her face for the mother she could barely remember, the single shred of hope stabbed in the heart by what she saw on the screen. Big red letters taunted her below the picture, the word clearly saying dead.

            Elizabeth waited for the man she called her father to appear next to her. With the same fate and the same caption underneath, the only difference being was that the picture would change to a black haired man. But it never came.

            “This doesn’t make sense,” She mumbled to herself, staring at the T.V. “This doesn’t make sense.”

            A burst of intuition pulsed through her; there was something terribly wrong here, something twisted and sick it made her stomach curl.

            She got up swiftly, and ran to her room. Maybe there was something that she had, anything that could explain it to her so she could tell Owen. So she could explain what happened to them and possible what happened to her.

             She snagged the white dress in her hand as she tore through it, searching for a picture, a note, anything that would’ve made him believe her, make him believe that they were in danger. Her hand grabbed on a piece of parchment, yellow and thick she opened it up carefully, cautious not to tear it.

            Be careful.  The message was simple, clear, yet she had a million questions. What she needed were answers.

            “How long have I been here,” The words rolled off her tongue, no permission being granted for them to come out. Not regretting it, she gawked at the wall in front of her; he was stood behind her as he thought of an answer hurriedly.

            “A week yesterday, why,” A question answered with another, she thought as she spun around as soon as the words came out.

             Her mind ticked with options, there were so many things that she could do, but so little she might actually pull off. The ideas physically pounded on her, her head hammered with pain, but still Elizabeth’s mind ran through what she just saw, the woman who conceived her, but the father that wasn’t there, that was never going to be on that screen.

            Elizabeth knew she saw both of them in that dream, saw them together happy. Yet only one turned up dead, not breathing, murdered.

            Could he still be alive? His heart still beating in his chest as blood ran through his veins, was it probable? Or did he slaughter her like a pig being prepared for a meal? A power so forceful that she didn’t even have a chance, her only hope was that someone heard her panic filled screams.

            Her hands shook with the thought; paper trembled along with the motion as she shut her eyes tight. Water began to engulf them, layering on top of it until it busted out with emotion. A lone tear ran down her cheek, echoing as it splashed to the hard floor below them.

            Even though she didn’t know him, she couldn’t imagine a husband killing his wife; it was inhuman, immoral. So unthinkable even the greatest of men would have to be on the brink of insanity to believe it true.   

            “I’m leaving,” Voice barely audible, she dashed forward before she could change her mind.  No thought, no fear.

            “Stop,” He grabbed her arm just as her foot went out the door. His face serious, eyes locked with determination, he stared at her. Owen trusted this girl, he trusted her with every fiber of his being, and maybe for that he should be labeled as insane. “I’m coming with you.”

            There was no option, no opinion. It was an order, a demand that she complied to follow.

            With a nod, Owen grabbed his coat and handed her one as well.

            Black fur coated the inside of the jacket, white stitching clearly standing out against the opposing color. She slung it on and didn’t realize how cold she actually was until that fragment of time. The soft fur tickled the skin on her arms, a small giggle growing in the pit of her stomach.

            She stepped out the door; the small noise rebounded in her ears over and over again, never ending.

            Ink filled the sky above them, blotches of white shined through promptly. She could feel the ice crawl under her skin like a bug, slithering under and through her body slicing it. The only light that filled the night was a sliver of the florescent moon above them; the only noise was their breathing that came out as white smoke, so perfect she could’ve considered it art.

            Owen took the first step away, first step away from safety, a home.

            As she walked after him she glanced back at the house, a single shadow slithered through light and then they flickered off.