The Macabre ➸ Psycho C.R.

《6》

-Darcie-

I leaned up against the wall in the hall as I watched Chandler lock every bolt and padlock on the front door, with my hands still taped together.

My head hurt and I knew why. I hadn't had my pills since work...that seemed like 2 days ago. Shit.

"My phone's being fixed. Screen smashed." Chandler said, taking off his hoodie and chucking it over the banister behind him.

"Can I borrow yours?" He said before chuckling to himself. "What I mean is 'I will borrow yours'."

He walked around to the side of the stairs, opening the small cupboard underneath it. He reached around for a minute, until he pulled out my bag.
My bag had my pills in it.

"Nice phone." He said, as he pulled it out of the bag. I stared as he turned it on. "You're going to have to tell me your password." Chandler said as the lock screen flashed up- a photograph of a bunch of stupid Polaroids I had taken with friends.

"I don't...I-"

"Just tell me your fucking password. I'm not looking at your web history, D. I just need to call the pizza place." He frowned at me, and I shifted.

"If you just take this tape off of my hands, I can type it in myse-"

"And why would I do that?" He scoffed, almost amused by my request. "I'm not just going to- shit, girl. Your phone's blowing up."

As I heard my phone vibrate repeatedly as messages and notifications were sent through, Chandler reached back into the cupboard under the stairs and began to search for something. Soon he pulled an object out. A gun.

My eyes widened and they followed the weapon as he held it casually at his side as he continued to look at my phone.

"Password." He ordered, staring at the screen still. Without hesitating, I replied.

"0927." I looked down to my once-white-now-grey converse.

"August twenty-seventh, I presume?" He said, looking up at me after typing in the password. I flinched at the mention of the full date. He turned back to the phone screen and began scrolling.

"Woah. Talk about overprotective." Chandler snickered, scrolling through my phone. "It hasn't even been forty-eight hours, and already they're all panicking. Shit. Especially Steven. And he's in California."

"Please, let me speak to him. I just want to tell him I'm oka-"

"Ooo what's this. Rachel? 'Babe, where are you? Why haven't you been at school today?'"
My lips parted to say something in protest as he continued to read out my messages, but I didn't know what to say. He had a gun in his hand.

"Darce, where are you? I miss you babe. Please call me when you can." He read out loud, as my chin trembled. "Shit. Would never have guessed you're gay."

My chin trembled. "I'm not...I'm-"

"Bi. Right." He smirked again. "I think we can let them worry for a little longer. But until then," he stopped and began to dial a number.

I zoned out and thought about everything. Everything shit that's happened to me in the past five years or so.

My mom's death.
How my dad began to rely on alcohol to get him through one day to the next.
When he started to hit me.
My depression diagnosis.
My dad's death.
Steven's battle for custody over me.
The abuse from classmates after I realised I wasn't straight.
The cutting.