Playing with Fire

9

I wake up the next morning.

The sun seeping through the weak curtains, the single bed is the most softest thing I have ever lied on. My hair is sprawled across my pillow and I just cannot be bothered to leave the bed.

No.

No one will make me.

Not even-

"Good morning, GOOD MOOOORRRNNIINNGG!!!!" Nat bursts into the room, singing and flings the curtains wide open.

The sunlight attacks my eyes and I can't do anything apart from throw the blanket over myself, protecting my precious eyes.

I hear a heavy sigh and footsteps towards me. I feel a pair of cold hands shoot down my back but I can't help myself from screaming with shock.

"NAT, WHAT THE ACTUAL EFF?!"

She is bending over, laughing so hard that she's crying.

She's ACTUALLY crying!

I'LL MAKE HER CRY IN A MINUTE!!!

"I AM SO SORRY!!" Nat responds me mid-wiping away a tear of hers.

Son- I mean: daughter of a bitch.

I look down to see-

Oh no-

Please-

No-

New clothing.

"What did you do with my other clothes?" I question.

"Oh, in the washing machine." she replies, smiling.

Silence.

"What. What is a washing machine?"

"It's self-explanatory, L." she sits beside me and looks at my new clothing.

It was a white shirt and grey trousers but she kept my white trainers.

"The clothes suit you,"

I tug at the collar and look inside it. "It fits me perfectly." I look at her and smile. "Thank you."

She shrugs her shoulders. "That's okay."

I get up and stretch but think: How did I get the clothes on?

But I look at her and smile again.

"Thank you agai-"

Three pounds of a fist were thrown at the front door. I make eye-contact with Nat and she does the same with me.

Another three pounds.

But it there's no voice.

Just more hammering on the oak door.

More.

And.

More.

"I'll check for what they want-"

"Probably cold callers." Nat interrupts jokingly.

I roll my eyes. "Most probably."

I turn to the direction of the door frame to the bedroom but a cold hand wraps it fingers around my wrist and pulling me back.

"Stay here." Nat warns me and opens a drawer to reveal a pistol. She stuffs it into a bag which contains more clothing - Clean clothes - with some food, water bottle, a torch and something looking abnormal.

She peers out of the window to then rush back to me, pressing both hands on my shoulders. "Run."

After all, this is a bungalow: I don't know whether I can.

"You're coming, right?"

She opens a cupboard and pulls out a shotgun. She cocks it and frowns at me, not noticing that her eyes were welling up with tears, lip trembling.

"Remember that I care about you, Laura," Nat brushes her fringe to the side.

"WHY ARE YOU DOI-"

"Is that Lawrence Anne Holloway, I hear?" a familiar call yells from behind the door. A feminine voice.

We remain silent.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!!" she exclaims. "I CAN HEAR YOU AND THE OTHER SETTLER!"

Nat reclines to the back door. "Do it. For me."

I slowly edge back towards the exit.

I whisper "Nat..." and I run out of the house, leaving my best friend there.

The door breaks down and there stands a woman with short blonde hair, slim, glasses... with... Steven.

Oh no.

"Hand her over," the woman pulled out a pistol from her dark blue bag which she was carrying. "then you won't die. Nor will she."

Nat stared back at me, then at the woman. "Why? Why are you here?"

The woman loads her pistol. "She is someone important to me... very important-"

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HER!" Nat yells. "L, RUN! NOW!"

I do what she says and I shoot out of the door, leaving the women.

I pelt up the hill and I hear a BANG! within the background. I turn around and I know that-

No-

Nat-

Nat had lost against the woman.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs. Howling. Grieving.

I grab hold of my pistol and aim it at the bungalow where the murderer and Steven are.

But I stop.

I don't know why but.

I don't cock the pistol and pull the trigger.

My finger was there. Ready to pull.

But I can't.

So I run.