Paranoid

7

She wrenches open the door. “Get out,” she says in a hysterical voice. “Get out of the car!” Denzel and I climb over the seats and out of the car. Amy holds up a key; the key to the handcuffs. She unlocks both of our cuffs and we rub at our wrists.
“We have to hurry and get out of here. Something... something took the policemen and I barely got out and I think it's coming after us and-” she stops talking. The tears in her eyes fall onto her cheeks and she coughs. Blood dribbles out of her mouth and she falls forward, into my arms. Behind her, on the porch, I can see a dark figure. It hisses, crawls up the front of the house with catlike grace, and slinks into an upstairs window. Slowly, I sink to my knees and look down at Amy, who's eyes are still wide open, a look of horror and surprise permanently etched into her smooth features. Denzel gently closes her eyes and sits next to me. Sirens wail in the distance.
“What are we going to do?” he asks, carefully removing strands of Amy's hair from the blood that rolls down her neck. I wipe her forehead and cheek and sigh, holding back tears. This should have been a horrific, heart stopping moment for me. I should be sobbing uncontrollably. Yet for some reason, holding my dead cousin in my arms feels... normal.
“We're going to leave here and never return,” I respond softly. I feel his warm, calloused hand on my face, and he turns my head towards him. His eyes lock on mine, and we stare at each other in silence for a few moments, or maybe for a few days. He and I, sitting on the damp ground, leaning against a police car, covered in blood, bruises, cuts and dirt, with my dead cousin in my lap. A picture that could have almost been considered beautiful.
The sirens draw closer, and I know that soon Denzel will be pulled away from me yet again. Amy will also be taken away from me, and then I will be taken away from here. I smile softly at Denzel, and he returns the favor. He leans forward and gently presses his lips against mine. I can taste traces of salt and copper on his mouth. It's bitter.
Tires crunch against gravel, and the sirens are deafening now. Car doors slam, and heavy footsteps echo around me. Everything begins to play in slow motion. First, Denzel and I pull apart. Then, someone pulls him up by his arms. His gaze doesn't break away from mine until another man comes and grabs his other arm. They drag him away, and he stares at me from over his shoulder. Only when they throw him into the back of a white van does his stare finally leave me. I look up and smile at a man similar to the ones that just dragged away Denzel. I look down at Amy and whisper, “She needs help. She's hurt.” The man takes her from me, carrying her bridal style to an ambulance. Her arm hangs limp by his side. Cool air blows over my thighs where Amy had just lain. I try to stand up, but other people pull me up before I can do it on my own. Without any regard for my well being, they drag me away like they did Denzel and throw me into a different van. I lie down on the cold metallic floor and stare at my distorted reflection in the wall. It's like looking into a fun house mirror. The floor vibrates, and then I can hear the wheels below me turning.
Everything hurts. I can hear the driver humming a happy tune. His rough voice surprisingly suits the soft notes of the song. I smile, allowing my eye lids to flutter shut. I'm tired, and now is a safe time to rest.

*^*^*^*^*^

I'm awoken by the driver that put me in the van. He grabs my roughly and pulls me out of the back of the van. I blink fiercely, the bright light stinging my eyes. At first, I think we're outside. Then, as my eyes adjust to the sudden light, I realize we're indoors. There's at least fifty vans, all lined up side by side in what looks like an air plane hanger. The driver holds my arms behind my back and pushes me forward. We walk to the end of the line of cars and through a door. The strong smell of antiseptic, lemon scented cleaner, and cinnamon stings my nose. We're in a hospital. My heart drops. Before he can close the door, I push the guard backwards and turn around. On the sides of every van are the same words, in big, blue letters.
Summerhill Sanitarium.
My breath catches in my throat, and all of a sudden I'm back to reality. The guard grumbles a string of swears and pulls me back in front of him. I consider fighting him and trying to get away, but I know the chances of escape are low. The only thing I can do currently is obey; so I allow him to push me forward, down pearly white hall after pearly white hall. Sometimes I hear people yelling in the distance. I've been admitted to a mental hospital once before, when I was a young teenager. It was one of my most unpleasant experiences, and ever since, I've harbored a fear of hospitals.
My heart hammers against my rib cage. I'm thrust into a room. The door slams behind me, and I hear a lock clank into place. Normally the workers are much nicer. They were when I was here last, anyway. It was sickening. They all talked in sweet, soft voices and wore fake, forced smiles. It made me feel out of place and different; like a mutation surrounded by scientists.
I look around, taking in my surroundings. A metal bed frame with a thin mattress, blanket, and pillow. Other than that, there's nothing except for the singular light bulb on the ceiling. The floor is carpeted with a shaggy brown area rug, and the walls are beige. It doesn't feel like a mental hospital room, but it doesn't feel cozy either. It feels like a room in a cheap motel. I sit on the bed and the springs squeal under my weight. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the room, although it's much fainter than in the hallways.
Then my mind wanders to Denzel and Amy. There was no doubt that Denzel was probably in a room similar to mine at the moment. Amy was probably being visited by sobbing family members. The doctors were probably telling them that Denzel and I murdered her, and the family was probably reacting with shocked expressions.
I grimace at the thought of being considered a murderer, especially the murderer of my cousin and parents. There had to be something that proved us innocent. I bounced my leg impatiently, going through all the events that I had just witnessed. Maybe if I could remember something that proved our innocence, I could get Denzel and I out of here. They couldn't keep us locked away if we did nothing wrong.
A knock on the door pulls me away from my thoughts. A middle-aged man in a white lab coat walks in. He smiles warmly at me, and I barely smile back.
“So, Ariel is it? Hi, I'm Doctor Barnes. I, um, heard about your case. It's pretty gruesome. Do you want to talk to me about what happened at that house, hm?” he asks in a fatherly voice. I bite back my bitterness. He seemed nice enough, but knowing his job was to pry through my thoughts and analyze me made me not like him.
“Are you supposed to be my counselor or doctor?” I ask, trying to keep any trace of dislike out of my voice. I was attempting to go for an innocent, curious, and possibly frightened mask.
“A bit of both, I suppose. See, nobody knows what really happened at your house. All we know is that there have been quite a few murders there within the last few hours, including members of your family. We also know that you and the young man with you were the only survivors there, and you were acting fairly peculiar when we arrived. So we've taken you into custody until we have all of the facts, okay?” he explains in a slightly condescending voice. I nod, understanding that they thought we were probably guilty but they didn't have any solid evidence quite yet.
“Okay. I'll tell you all I know,” I respond. This is my chance to prove the innocence of Denzel and I, and I'll be damned if I let it slip through my fingers.

A/N: Not edited. Please contact me or put any grammatical or spelling errors in the comments ♡
Sorry for the incredibly late update. I... had some horrible things happen recently that distracted me from mostly everything. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed chapter 7! Next chapter may be a bit late because again, I'm writing quite a few other things behind the scenes. That is, books I have yet to publish. But this book is a top priority because it's on Wattpad, so keep reading and leaving feedback because it really does help.
Thanks for reading!