chapter sixteen.
angela's pov
i had gone to sleep in oliver's bed. he slept on the other half of it, since we both refused to sleep in eli's room. i hadn't even slept; i'd been awake incase eli came home early.
oliver's phone was on the night stand beside him. it was right there. i could grab it and make an emergency call to michael. but sadly, it wasn't that easy. oliver would wake up if i moved.
morning came around and the sun shone through the broken brown shutters. i'd been awake all night. oliver turned over in the bed and faced me. "morning," he whispered in his tired voice. i stood up without responding and walked to the laundry room. i grabbed my clothes from the dryer and changed with the door closed.
i went back to the bedroom and tossed oliver's clothes at him. "morning," i finally replied harshly.
"did someone not sleep?" he asked. i shook my head and walked through the doorway to the kitchen. he followed me, rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet on the rug-clad wooden floor.
"eli will be back in an hour," he continued, opening the cabinets in search of the food he bought the day before.
"where does he go?" i asked, peeling an orange. oliver's lips formed a line.
"i don't know. he won't tell me," he said quietly. we sat in complete silence for a long while. i threw my garbage away in the trash and began walking back to my seat.
out of the complete silence, all that could be heard was a door slam. eli.
oliver looked alarmed as he jumped up from his seat. "you need to go back," he ushered me out of my seat and towards the living room. keys jingled as oliver lifted the carpet and opened the door. he ordered me to go down and slammed the door behind me.
michael's pov
there she was, sitting on the ground. her hands were tied behind her back. "you promised!" she screamed repeatedly, flailing to get to her feet and failing to do so. she was bleeding rapidly from a wound on her neck, directly in the middle of it.
"promises aren't always meant to be kept, angela," someone said. jack. him again. he stepped closer and knelt down next to her. i couldn't tell what he whispered to her, but a pool of tears began flowing down her cheeks.
"me," was all that left her lips. jack stood again as eli unlocked the box under the stairs. weapons. it was all weapons. he pulled a silver gun and put a single bullet in it. angela's shoulders shook as she bawled. i knew he was going to kill her, and i couldn't do anything about it.
he handed the gun to jack, who accepted it, pointing it directly at her forehead. "i'm sorry, angela," jack said, ang squinting her eyes shut to avoid watching. i need to save her.
there was a stomach-churning gunshot.
i shot straight up in my bed, holding my head in my hands and panting. i couldn't believe what i'd just witnessed. that was only the second premonition, but they seemed to get worse by the next. even though i hadn't seen what had happened to her, i knew it had to have been something bad.
i wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and checked the clock beside the bed. 4:52 am. i laid back down and put my hands over my face. everything had been so stressful.
nobody seemed to be awake as i laid quietly in bed again. no noises, nothing. i felt alone, and being alone hurt more than you could ever imagine.
i laid thinking about her for almost three hours. at eight exactly, i heard an alarm clock go off. it was probably her mother's, so she could go to work. i figured that that was my cue to get up as well.
trudging my way out of my room took my tired ass fifteen minutes. the sad reality was that i almost fell asleep again on the way out. i heard the door open and shut again before i could get down the steps. i was somewhat glad that i didn't have to see her. i never liked those this-is-awkward-but-you're-almost-my-daughters-boyfriend-but-she's-missing-so-you-are-going-to-find-her talks. then again, i never thought i'd have one.
i walked into the living room and rubbed my eyes as i sat on the couch. the front door opened yet again and i turned around. sierra had welcomed herself in. "morning," she said cheerily.
"how the hell are you so happy in the mornings?" i asked, scratching my head.
"i could ask the same to you," she said back sarcastically.
alex walked down the steps and straight into the kitchen without saying good morning. i guess he wasn't a morning person either. sierra turned on the tv to some jersey show. that was the type of the show angela hated. she would never allow that to be watched in her house.
"what's wrong with you this morning?" alex asked. "you aren't how you were yesterday."
i thought about possible answers to his question. that dream about her really messed with my mind, but i didn't want to explain her possible death to two of the people closest to her. "one, i'm not a morning person whatsoever. two, if you knew me, you'd know i am never the same."
