Regret or Forget {Book 2}

(6) Let Chaos Begin

From 4 weeks after I have planted this message (04/10/14), the next 48 hours the following people would become known as “missing”. Then a day later they will be found dead at different times in different parts of the city. Do realize that I’m not in this alone and this was planned from the start. Enjoy.

The list (No order):

1.      Dexter

2.      Ryan

3.      Evan

4.      Elizabeth

5.      Morgan

6.      John

7.      April

8.      Thomas

9.      Kevin

10.  Thorn

James

P.S Oh, and Evan, I’ll do you a special request and save you for the last one so you can die in the same place as she did. Isn’t that nice?

There was complete silence as Dexter finished reading the letter. I silently stood near the cabinets, having moved away from Evan just in case my father decided to reappear at any moment. Now, staring at the ground my brain worked in overload.

“How are we supposed to keep these people alive? There’s more than one Kevin or Thomas, hell of all them in Chicago. Even google won’t cut it.”

Evan shrugged, “I say we give it to the police and let them decide what to do. This is completely out of our league anyways.”

This silenced everyone as they thought it over quietly. Maybe that was exactly what we should do. I really didn’t want to replay everything I had managed to escape in the past; I certainly by no means wanted to go through anything related to that hell ever again. It seemed like the best thing to do was to leave it in the cop’s hands. But Evan, Ryan, and Dexter were on the list and that made me uneasy and unsure on whether we shouldn’t actually be involved.

“But what if…” I started and when the two boys’ looks prompted me forward I continued, “What if we see James again? We haven’t seen him since… last time.”

Evan stared at me, a flat look on his face, “If he comes near you, I’ll kill him. It’s as simple as that.”

I blinked and something in the back of brain warned me that Evan was serious. Though the statement should have touched my heart, it sent chills down my spine. My thoughts went to what happened with Jeremy and how my hands held the trigger. How he died in a pool of his own blood. My chest tightened and I took slow easy breathes. I couldn’t have another panic attack, not again. Ever since the coma I occasionally had panic attacks that left me feeling dreadful and scared beyond the shakes of a horror movie on replay.

A comforting hand landed on my back, gently rubbing up and down.

The doctors had told me that therapy was good for me. That everything I had been through had put me through a lot of stress. Then on medication for the disorder I had gained. Post-traumatic stress disorder or simply PTSD. Even after all the weeks, all the time, and all the good things that had happened like Carl finally going to jail and my mother finally trying to get sober, things just weren’t working out well. In my subconscious terrible thoughts flowed around, memories flood back at random times, and I was dragged into a pit of depression that suffocated me with constant nightmares and restless nights.