Can't Afford Mistakes.

Chapter Twenty

Arabella.

I reluctantly open my eyes as I become aware of the warmth of my bed. I pull my comforter over my head and roll over in an effort to find my phone. Once I find it, I hit the home button to check the time and date.

Monday, May 25th, 3:34 am.

I slept through the entire day. I peel the covers off of my head and look around my dark room. Sadie is fast asleep on an air mattress near my closet. Lucas sleeps sitting sitting against the frame of my bed with his arms crossed lazily over his chest and his hood pulled over his head. Brett snores happily on my couch with his arm dangling off the side and his face wedged between the cushion and the arm of the couch.

I decide to tip toe over to my bathroom and take a shower. I open the door and stumble over to the sink, not bothering to turn on the lights. I hit play on my music and set my phone on the on the counter. I turn the shower onto its hottest setting and strip. I step under the water and let the water massage my aching muscles.

After minutes of letting the scorching water run down my back, I decide to wash up. I take a seat on the tub floor as I let my deep conditioner sit in my hair. I plug the drain for a few minutes to let the water level rise. I run my hand through the rising water calmly. I reach for the plug to left it but stop half way.

Another wave of pain becomes present in my stomach. I lurch forward and heave air since there's nothing left in my stomach. Then a sharp pain goes through my head forcing me to close my eyes. On the inside of my eyelids, I see Lucas and I standing on the front porch of our parents house, hands soaked in red. I open my eyes and see the water around me has turned a crimson red. I try to stand up when I see blonde strands of hair begin to float to the top of the water.

"Why didn't you help me Arabella," my mother's voice echoes around me.

"Why didn't you stop him," says my father's voice.

"Stop, stop, stop," I mutter repeatedly as I shake my head back and forth.

"Why didn't you help us," my parents scream in unison as they're dead bodies appear with bullets between their eyes in each corner of the tub.

"I'm sorry," I cry, "I'm so so sorry."

"Who killed us," my mother sneers.

"Mommy, don't make me," I plead.

"Who killed us," my father demands.

"Please, stop," I beg as I shake my head back and forth causing my hair to fly in different directions.

"Say it," they both growl, "say Arabella. Dammit, say his name!"

"Lucas," I wail so hard my throat burns.

The door burst open and the lights come on so fast I have to force my eyes shut. I feel the water cease to from raining down on me and I hear the water begin to drain. A warm towel is draped around my small body and I pull it tight around me.

"Arabella," Lucas says soothingly as I sob, "it wasn't real. You're okay. It wasn't real."

"Mom and dad and they're heads and, and," I stutter as I try to block the images out of my head.

"Arabella, hey, look at me," Lucas says grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. "It wasn't real. Okay? It's wasn't real."

"Lucas, we were standing on the porch with our hands dripping in blood! Then they pop up like that," I nearly scream. "That can't be some coincidence! Do they think I had a part in this?"

"You saw it too," he asks barely above a whisper from behind the glass shower door.

"What was that," I ask hysterically.