Butterflies (A Before You Exit fanfiction)

Chapter 60

MARIA'S POV

I squealed. "You can't catch me!"

"Yes I can!" the boy yelled back, chasing my around my backyard.

"No you can't!" I retorted.

However, the boy proved me wrong within the next five seconds.

He sped up quickly out of nowhere and tackled me on the soft grass.

It was a hot day, in the middle of the summer. The summer in between freshmen year and sophomore year to be exact. Him and I were really good friends. And he was chasing me because I stole his bracelet.

He was on top of me, tickling me.

"Stop!" I laughed.

"Never!" He said, laughing too.

His hands moved fast and stealthily, from my neck, to my arm pit, to my stomach, poking me.

I tried to block his attempts, but failed terribly.

However, I began to see his pattern and started to block his hands better.

Then, he grabbed a hold of my wrists and pinned them down on the grass.

We kept still for what seemed like decades, just staring at each other, caught in the moment.

Suddenly, his face got closer and closer to mine, until his lips were a breath away.

As soon as I began to close that tiny space in between, I was ripped away.

"Hello?" I yelled, looking at my new surroundings.

"Is anyone there?" I shouted again.

A noise sounded to my right.

I turned.

"Hello, Maria."

"Dad?"

"I guess you could call me that."

My step-father appeared from the shadows.

"It's you? What are you doing here?" I yelled at him.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that. You're my daughter."

"No, I'm not."

He gripped my wrists. "Yes you are."

"Then why are you trying to kill me?"

He held tight onto my wrists and I could feel a bruise forming.

"Because I want money, fame. You may be my daughter, but fortune is worth more."

"Where have you been?"

"Hiding. Plotting."

"Plotting what?"

"Your death, and the death of every person you hold dear."

"Why?"

"Because I want the fame!" he shouted in my face.

I flinched, not expecting that.

"Watch your back! We will meet again on----"

I woke up, screaming.

"What is it?" Jenna and Kris asked, coming by my bed.

The boys barged into the room seconds later, shirtless, making a bee line to my bed.

"Dream. Boy." I told Jenna and Kris; they'd know what I mean.

"Same." Jenna said.

"That's why you screamed?" Kris asked, confused.