Perfect *UNDER CONSTRUCTION*

Chapter Thirteen: Getting Away

I stopped dead where I was, in front of Brianna's house. I saw her window. It was dark. Most of the other windows were lit up. I saw a red mark, about the size of a dime on the window next to hers. There was no scream after the last gunshot. No yell. Only silence. Which scared me even more, because I was in love with the girl in there. The brown eyed, brown haired girl. No matter how rough she had it, it couldn't be too rough, right? Would her brother really kill her?

I looked at the tree. Time to climb, I thought.

I started up the tree slowly at first.It was still dark, so it was hard to see where I could hold and get up, but after a while I just stopped paying attention all together and let instincts take over. 

I heard my mom scream my name. She was still at least on our doorstep. Then there was Andrew's voice calling my name. I ignored them, shuffling on to the last branch, holding onto a branch above me. 

I climbed onto the window sill. It was barely open enough to get through, but I couldn't push it up any more. When I got in, I turned around and saw nails. 

There was a candle lit. That explained why it smelled like cinnamon. A white light came from the closet. That had to be her phone. I opened the closet door and crouched down to a black mass on the floor. Then I heard a yell come from down the hall. A name, maybe, but it was muffled. 

Brianna started crying again. I picked her up and she punched me. "It's okay, it's me, Alex." I whispered. 

She calmed down and I carried her back to the window. I let her crawl out first, but I was right behind her. I heard sirens coming down the street. 

"Son of a-" She never got to finish her sentence. I heard the door break open, obviously kicked in. The light clicked open, and there stood Jake. His white shirt was mainly red now, and he held a gun and a knife. I couldn't help but think, Overkill much?

"Oh my God." I said. Brianna jumped from the branch, landing on her feet. I did the same, landing on my knees. And it hurt. Jake punched the window, not being able to get out of it without breaking it. I felt a shard of glass catch in my skin. It hurt really bad, but I didn't focus on that. 

Brianna was holding her left arm. I couldn't see why, but she was. "Who called the damn police?" She screamed as a car pulled up to the house. I couldn't answer. It was probably my mom, though. Or anyone in the neighborhood. 

I heard a gunshot, felt a bullet fly past my head. That was close. Another car pulled up to the house. Brianna was still screaming, but I couldn't make out the words. 

Everything seemed to go black at that point. A policeman came up to us and led us to one of his cars. Brianna was crying and there were more and more gunshots. 

Then it was just silent. Brianna sat next to me, my arm around her. Tears soaked into my shirt. She was still holding her arm. I looked down and saw blood streaming from it. Either she was shot, or she was cut. 

The policeman came back to the car, leaned up against it. He looked in at us. 

"Do you live here?"

"I don't." I said. "She did." 

"I'm sorry." He said. He radioed in for an ambulance. Brianna never stopped crying. 

My mom ran up to the car, Andrew shortly behind her. 

"What were you thinking?" She demanded. "Why would you do that?" 

"He was helping me." Brianna looked at my mom, tears still streaming down her face. He voice was actually steady. "I would have died if he hadn't been here."