"The Sketcher." (A Jacksepticeye Story.)

Troubled Times

"If I had a nickel for every time it stopped raining in Ireland..I would have one nickel because IT NEVER FUCKING STOPS!!"
- Sean Willim Mcloughin

Chapter Twenty-One

   Amber looked up, meeting the eyes of a police officer. Her smile faded a little at the sight of them. Her mother stood up, wiping her face and smiling at them. The chief smiled back and tipped his hat at her. He then turned back to Amber, studying her.

"Ma'am, would it be alright if we asked you a couple questions? We need the full story from you, Ms. Brooke. We are still looking for this Luke kid but we will not stop until he is found. Now, please follow me back to your room."

Amber sighed, sitting gently down in her chair, rubbing her aching forehead. Jack pushed her back up to her room, slowly helping her into her bed.

"Now that we've got you all situated, I would like to ask you some questions. Tell me your story. From the beginning to the very end. Don't leave out anything."

Amber's hands started shaking as she looked up at Jack. He nodded to her and sat next to her, holding her hand tightly. Her mother stood close to her and Jack, frowning at the cops. Amber took a deep breath and started her long and horrible story.
    Amber kept a hold of Jack's hand tightly as she described what Luke did to her. Managed to get through her story, tearing up here and there but overall getting through everything.
The cops nodded and wrote down every word she said as they sat across from her. When she was finally done explaining, she felt even more drained.
   For someone who slept for so many hours, she felt like she hadn't slept in months. Jack noticed her sad eyes. She looked at the floor, fidgeting with her hands as the cops talked to the mother outside. Jack sighed and ran a hand through his messy green hair.

"Amber?" Jack asked quietly, seeing her look up.

   He cradled her gently, kissing her forehead and caressing her cheek. She bit her lip and buried her face into his chest. He rubbed her back soothingly.

"We're going to find Luke, I swear. He will pay for what he's done. I promise you." Jack said, pulling her chin up and kissing her sweetly.

Amber blushed and nodded, sitting up and sighing.

"You need to eat something. You'll feel a lot better. I'll go get you something." Jack stated, squeezing her hand and leaving the room.

   Amber gripped the sheets, listening to the cop's talk outside. She could see the TV from her bed, all news reports about Luke. He really messed up this time, Amber thought. She sat cross legged under the covers, yawning. She felt tired, but she knew she couldn't sleep.
   She clenched her fist, looking back at all she's been through. She didn't deserve this, she didn't deserve any of this. She huffed angrily, scanning the room until she spotted her sketchbook.
She stretched her arm, her fingertips dragging her sketchbook towards her. She succeeded, letting it fall onto the bed. Her hands were trembling from her anger so she thought drawing would calm her down.
   She looked around the room, trying to stir her tired mind up again. She didn't want to draw anything in this hospital, it scared her. She settled on a bird that was sitting on the window.
It reminded her of when she drew that beautiful red bird outside the school window. The thought calmed her as she opened a blank page and grabbed her pencil.
   She started sketching, smiling as she felt the familiar feeling in her fingertips. She looked over at the bird, letting her hand sketch away. After a couple minutes, the picture started to come together.
She smiled a little, looking out the window. Without thinking, she stood up and walked closer to the window. She had to take little steps, her ribs protesting. She kept going until she made it to the window, resting heavily against it. Her eyes trailed down into the bushes below, her mouth dropping open. Her pencil fell from her hands, her book falling to the floor.
   Her heart froze and she let out a gasp. She could hear her moniter going off, but her eyes were locked on something else. She shook her head, she had to be imagining things. Her eyes widened as he looked up at her.

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't talk.

Her eyes were currently locked on Luke who was hiding in the bushes, watching her. He was just crouched there, watching her like a hawk. The fear that clutched her heart was to the point to where it almost hurt. She didn't think he knew that she could see him.
Still, Amber's blood ran cold at the sight of this psycho just a mere few stories below her. Waiting there, stalking, planning. He moved his hand, twirling something. The moonlight reflected against it, causing another small gasp to escape Amber's lips.

It was a knife...Luke was holding a knife.

(Terribly sorry this is such a short chapter. I've been super tired and busy lately. I promise the next one will be better!)