Hunted

Chapter Two: Flashback

The cup fell out of my hands, and hot liquid splashed up from the floor onto my legs, causing me to gasp and step back.

I looked around- it seemed as if everyone in the room were staring a me.

Slowly sliding my phone into my pocket, I grabbed a few napkins off of the counter and leaned over, wiping up the spilled latte. Everyone went back to their chatter, and when I was done, I picked up my book again and walked out of the coffee shop.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen again, just to make sure I wasn't just imagining it, but it was there in the text, clear as day. 'Sam is alive.'

I walked back to my car, and got the front seat. My pants were soaked in the latte that I had spilled, so I decided to drive home and get changed.

The whole ride home, all I could think about was that text message. Who could have sent it, an more importantly, were they telling the truth?

When I got in the door, I heard my mom and dad were arguing in the kitchen.

"This dinner is the most important night of my career, Alice, an you're telling me you don't feel like our daughter will be okay on her own tonight? She's seventeen, not seven!" My dad shouted.

"Look, I know that you want to get this promotion, Damian, but I don't see why you need me to come with you!" mom explained.

"All the other married men bring their wives to these parties. What is it going to look like when I show up alone?" My dad protested, and I heard him slam his fists on the counter the way he did when he got mad.

"Fine. I'll come." mom snapped, and she walked out of the kitchen, nearly running into me. "Oh, Olivia, you're home."

"Yeah, I'm home." I replied. "Ben's coming over at seven to study while you two are at the company dinner."

Mom nodded. "Alright, I'll bake some cookies before I leave." She offered. "I know how that boyfriend of yours can eat."

I laughed. "I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

Mom smiled, and we both walked into the kitchen, where dad was sitting at the table reading the paper.

"How was your day?" Dad asked, flipping over the newspaper.

"Good." I lied.

"Classes went well?" He asked.

"Yeah." I replied. "I have to read this book for English now, so come get me when dinner's ready."

He nodded, and I walked into my room and put on sweatpants. I tried to read the book, but all I could think about was that text. I pulled out my phone, and looked at it again.

On a spur of the moment decision, I decided to reply to the text.

'Prove it.'

Almost instantly, a reply came in. A photo image.

I opened it, and was greeted by a photo that I knew was from the night Sam had disappeared. It was blurry, but it was clearly a dark haired boy wearing a red hoodie that was soaked in blood, just like the one Sam was wearing that night, standing behind the Mini Mart on Walker St.

I knew I needed more proof- the image could have been photoshopped.

'How do I know you aren't just playing some sick joke on me?' I texted.

The reply was instant. A video from a security camera feed- a boy in a white t-shirt and jeans, running past the camera. Suddenly the boy looked up and my heart nearly stopped beating.

Dark eyes, angular features- even under the layer of grime covering the boy's face, I could still tell that it was Sam.

I leaned back on my pillow, breathing heavily. I could feel the flashback coming.

Suddenly I was sitting at my kitchen table, and Sam was sitting across from me. His eyes crinkled the way they were when he laughed, an he was grinning ear.

"I'm just saying, you should say yes. She likes you!" I told him.

"Nah, she's just desperate." he replied.

I remembered this conversation- it was about three weeks before Sam was murdered, or so I thought. Kayla Wheaton had asked him to a school dance, and he wasn't sure of whether or not he should say yes.

"Well, even is she is, why don't you say yes anyway?" I asked.

"Because I..." He was cut off by his phone vibrating loudly on the table.

He picked up his phone, and stared at the screen with a look of concern, and suddenly loomed very worried. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and stood up.

"I have to go." he said, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"It's nothing. I'll call you later." He said, and walked out of the kitchen. I heard the front door slam, and wondered what the text could have said to have made him leave in such a hurry.

I opened my eyes, and the flashback was over. I was shaking a little, my hands clenched in the sheets, making my knuckles turn white.

I thought maybe I should take it to the police, and they could investigate it further. If I had the proof, they would have to believe me if I said he was alive.

I heard a knock on my door, and tried to calm down.

"Come in!" I called.

The door swung open, and my mother stepped into the room. "I just wanted to make sure you'll be okay on your own while your father and I are out tonight." She said.

"I won't be alone- Ben will be here." I replied, sitting up straight.

Mom sat at the foot of my bed. "We'll be out pretty late, so feel free to invite Ben to stay late." she offered.

I nodded. Mom liked Ben. I guess she must have found him trustworthy because she saw how much he cared about me, so she never really worried about me hanging out with him. Dad was usually reluctant, but if mom trusted Ben, dad wouldn't argue.

"Alright, thanks." I replied.

"Dinner's almost ready. Could you come downstairs in five minutes?" She asked.

I nodded, and she left the room, closing the door behind her. I got up, and pulled my favourite hoodie out from the closet. I realized it was the hoodie I had been wearing when I found Sam the night he was stabbed.

For the first time, I noticed a dark red stain on the sleeve, and shuddered, realizing that this was Sam's blood.

I threw the hoodie on the floor of my closet, and grabbed a different sweater before leaving my room and going back to the kitchen.

All I could see was Sam's face in the flashback. Worried. Unsure

Scared.