Saving The Gangsta

t w e n t y - s e v e n

a l e x i

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Everyone I love, dies

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My phone beeped for the hundredth time, yet I paid no attention to it as I smiled at the McDonald's women.

Two double cheeseburgers with large fries and a chocolate milkshake?

Yes fucking please.

I pulled into the base's driveway around 20 minutes later , my brows furrowing as I noticed the door was agar slightly and a sudden daunting feeling arose on my stomach.

I swear to God if something ruins my food, I'll cut a hoe.

The first thing I realised as I approached the door was a dark, red stained on the handle. One that wasn't there when I left.

What the fuck?

The twins, as usual.

I wasn't too bothered, until the distinct scent of iron drifted into my reach.

It wasn't paint, it wasn't one of the twins stupid pranks.

It was blood.

Why the fuck is blood on my door handle?

As I step into the door, listening to footsteps fade into the distance, I freeze.

In that moment, I stand in the midst of vast darkness. The walls are stained with expired remains of life. There seems to be a dull spotlight on me, someone or something watching my every move. Watching and waiting patiently, until it finds the best moment to strike down and ruin me entirely. I felt it first when Asher died. I felt it when I watched the spark fade miserably from his eyes. I felt like the entire world was corrupted in a way that primarily targeted me, and only me.

And there's blood.

There's always blood.

Blood in my mind. Blood in my nightmare. Blood on my hands.

And now it's surrounding me, drowning me, strangling me.

I need to find my family.

I can't lose them too.

Biting my lip, in order to prevent myself from shouting out and possibly informing the enemy that I was here, I surge forward, holding my strap.

The panic room.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Scarlett." I breathe out, dropping to my knees.

Numbness.

That's all I can feel.

Just pure emptiness.

She was so good. Better than all of us put together. I remember finding her for the first time, seeing the bruises litter across her features and the distant glimmer in her dark brown eyes.

Hayden managed to overrule that glimmer.

She was happy.

It's an attack.

It has to be.

No one in this place would ever turn against Scar. Not Jayce, not Astrid, not any other 'suspected' traitor.

Tyler would.

Tyler's dead. I hurt him. I killed him.

It must be someone else.

But my family are dead.

And when people die, they're just gone and they don't come back.

Asher's not coming back.

Why me?

Why is it always fucking me?

I finally had everything. A good family, my twin brother and my best friend.

And then the universe just had to fuck it all up for me.

It doesn't matter how much I beg, how much I cry, how much I wish for my life to be different.

Nothing ever changes.

***

Scarlett.

Dylan.

Xander.

Taylor.

Oli.

Addy.

Jesse.

River.

Erin.

Shae.

All their bodies littered across what was our home, as if their lives meant absolutely nothing.

As if their very being holds no value.

I can't do this anymore.

I really can't.

Foreign tears stain my cheeks, a distant reminder of just how broken I felt just an hour or two ago. My entire body just felt numb. Empty.

My brows furrow as I hear a shuffling sound in the room next to the one I was in. I grab my gun, holding it up as I approached with caution.

If it's a fucking rebel, I'm going to kill that motherfucker.

But instead, my eyes were greeted with blood stained walls and two bodies lay aside each other.

One was Devil.

And the other was Astrid, but her body was not still.

Rushing towards her, I grab her stomach and put as much pressure onto the gunshot wound as possible. A groan escapes her lips, and her eyelids flutter until they open slightly.

"Please." One single whisper. One desperate plead. "Save him."

"Astrid, it's Lexi." She whimpers as our eyes meet, until she notices that it's me.

I was right. All along.

She wasn't the traitor.

Her wrist is outstretched, with her tattoo facing me.

Just one line was left to complete. Her line.

"I don't want to die..." She pants, "...not being one of you."

Her words come out as futile gasps for breath, the bleeding refuses to cease.

"You're not going to die." I whisper to her, shaking my head.

She smiles sadly, understanding the hopelessness surrounding my words.

"Finish it. Please." Her voice shakes.

God, I'm so sorry Astrid.