Fighting the Wolves

Chapter Three

The bus ride home was agonizing, I already had math, and social studies homework. Why do teachers think, 'just because it's your senior year, doesn't mean you should have any free time at all!'. I'm just wondering what their motives are, I have college applications to fill out people, those don't happen if I'm too busy doing six million math problems that I won't even need in the future.

The bus finally pulls up to my stop. grabbing my bag, I exit the bus, and start my short walk down the street to my home. I feel each step get heavier as I make my way down the narrow sidewalk of my old neighborhood. The bruises, and whatever has happened to my head, and everything that happened mentally today, I just don't wanna wake up tomorrow.

I walk up the steps to my front door, pulling out my key, and letting myself inside.

"Amelia? You home?" I hear my mom call from the kitchen, the shuffling of pans indicating that she was cooking.
"Yeah, I've already got homework, so I'll just go do that." I say, my voice monotone as I slump down the hallway to my room. Our one story bungalow feels strange now that my brother is gone. It's just me and my parents now. Me and my broken home.

I enter my bedroom, closing the door behind me before changing into some pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt, and collapsing onto my bed with a groan.

Homework can come later.

I let my heavy eyelids close as I curl up on my side with the blankets wrapped around me like a shell, a shell that will protect me till I wake.

I wish I could sleep forever.

~*~

The sound of the front door closing wakes me up. I glance at the clock to see it's only been around 45 minutes since I fell asleep. It's not even 4 yet.

I yawn as I stretch and stand up, walking weakly down the hallway to the kitchen.
The house is empty, which doesn't surprise me, since mom and dad often like to leave the house to go shopping. They don't buy anything, they just like to look at stuff and wish we could have the money to buy whatever they are looking at.

I don't bother to look for a note, I know there won't be one. There never is one.
I open the fridge, hopeful for something to eat, but my stomach instantly causes me to shut the door. Anything that I could even think of eating will probably get puked up, especially with this headache. Maybe I should go to the hospital.

I shrug off the feeling, and walk back into my room, closing the door whilst grabbing my phone and earbuds from where I left them on top of my backpack. Stuffing the earbuds in my ears, I click shuffle on the first playlist that appears on my Spotify 'recently played' box.

Novocaine by Fall Out Boy starts to play loudly in my ears as I lift up my cheap laptop from my desk, logging in and instantly starting my homework.

What even is math?
When would I ever need this?
The only way I would need this is if I want to be an engineer, which will never happen considering how much I hate this subject 70% of the time.

Songs fly through my numb mind as I work mindlessly through each of the equations, then start my Econ homework, sighing as I flip through the pages I need to read and take notes on. Honestly, the chapter isn't even that long, in fact I love reading, it's just the boring facts that I've been learning since the 5th grade. Why do we just repeat this stuff over and over?

What was with Jackson today?

My mind suddenly decides to wander to a dark place, shutting down me doing my homework, and any thought of even trying to listen to the music.

What was with Jackson today? Mr. High and Mighty comes back from whatever boarding school his dead sent him to, and now he thinks he can just ignore all the crap he put me through? Why was he even paying attention to me? And why did I feel any sort of attraction to him?
I mean, of course he's hot, that's just a given, but with his crappy personality, why would I feel such a strong pull towards him?

I loud bump interrupts my thoughts, even through my loud music. I pull my earbuds out of my ears, and pause the music on my phone, listening closely for the noise again.
A second time, although this one much quieter than the last.

There seems to be something in the house.

I apply logic to the situation, I could be an idiot like everyone in horror movies, and go out and investigate, or I can lock my door, and have my phone ready to call the cops if whatever it is comes any closer.

The sound of a door opening down the hall catches my attention as I quietly lock the door. It's probably not a good idea to call the police, that could make this situation worse. After all, you can text 911 now. I love the advancements of our generation sometimes.
I enter the number, and silently type my situation into the message, sending it as soon as I hear another door creak open, this time closer than the last.

I'm basically having a heart attack right now as my heart pounds faster and faster with the tense approach of the intruder. I feel my phone silently vibrate in my hand, I unlock the screen quickly and check the message from the cops.

911: Try and hide, we have dispatched a squad to your address. Hold on.

I gulp down the bile that is trying to escape my throat, grimacing as another door creaks, this one the bathroom, right across from my bedroom.

Let's see if I can guess which door the intruder will try next?

I close my eyes tightly as I stuff myself into my small closet, closing the door behind me, and shove clothes all over me, hiding myself as much as possible.
I hear my door handle rattle, first quickly, then longer, and angrier. After a couple seconds, the rattling stops, there's nothing but a tense silence. I feel a tear fall down my face, the air around me suffocating me with each inhale I take. This isn't oxygen I'm breathing, it's poison.

The door suddenly flies across the room, splinters of wood scattering everywhere. A tall figure, his face hidden by a hoodie, stands where my door used to be. He peers in, glancing around the room, I hold my breathe completely as his cloaked gaze seems to land on the closet doors where I'm hiding.

He stalks closer making no sound with his footsteps, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up, causing me to shake from fear.
The man stops just in front of the door, pausing as he reaches out for the handle, sirens sounding in the distance. He suddenly rips open the doors, slamming the thin wicker sliders against the wall, causing me to jump slightly. His eyes land on me, I hear myself cry out as he grabs me roughly by the shoulders. The sirens are getting closer now, but he ignores them as he slings me over his shoulder, as if I'm a dead body he's going to bury. I won't be surprised if that's what he'll do.

I was hoping my death would be peaceful.
I guess beggars can't be choosers.

I scream at the top of my lungs, letting the whole neighborhood know what's happening. The sirens are closer, I might be saved.
I'm suddenly thrown back over his shoulder, backwards, onto the couch in my living room, with a clothe over my mouth. The funny smell tipping me off as to what this stranger is doing to me.
I try not to breathe in the fumes, struggling against the mans grip, but the smell is already in my nose, and I'm still weak from today.

I hope I die before he can do anything to me.

I make my best effort in self defense, but the fumes have taken me over, my eyelids are heavy, and I can't fight the sleep that is causing my vision to go completely black.

I drift off into a nightmare filled sleep, only imagining what will await me when I wake up.

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Heyyy! Another chapter for ya'll, hope you enjoy. I feel so accomplished that I finished this chapter in an hour, I feel like I got a lot done today, are you proud of me?!

Anyways, who do you think the hoodie kidnapper is? Just kidding, of course you know who it is!...or DO you? >:)

Please Vote, share, and comment, thanks for reading this weeks chapter!

Song above is Novocaine by Fall Out Boy.