It's All Over

Part 1

"Philly I don't-"

I dropped the lock pick and glared at Emmitt.

"Don't look at me like that."

"We're just breaking into a storage locker, Em. My storage locker."

"How dumb are you."

"Very-" I went back to picking the padlock secured on the door of my locker. "-Besides, it's not like it's illegal or anything."

"Why are we friends," he asked as the lock clicked.

"You know you love me."

Almost immediately a burly man grabbed Emmitt from behind and injected a translucent serum into Em's neck. I backed as far as I could into the locker desperately reaching for an old lamp on top of one of the boxes. I missed it as he grabbed my hair and stuck a second syringe into my neck. Within minutes the world faded to blackness.

I woke up in a humid room with only one thought on my mind: Find Emmitt. Unfortunately, all I knew about wherever I was was that it was dim and the man at that table- wait what?

"Good-," he said as he walked towards me, -You're awake". He was tall with peppered grey hair and deep-set, dark eyes.

"Do I get a phone call?"

He stared at me for a minute, confused no doubt, before starting a villainesque lecture. About halfway through he realized I wasn't listening.

"Look, Tony-Imma call you Tony- I vote you kill me because I don't really have anything left, but I don't think I'm the one you want so...."

"That's where you're wrong." He began to read from a dusty binder, "Philippa Lefebvre, born March -"

"Booo," I yelled flatly.

He looked at me confused. "March 6-"

"Booo!"

His eyes narrowed. "California's Philippa Lefebvre, age 16, missing for two years seen in Manhattan with serial terrorist Emmitt Hamilton, wanted by DHS for 13 bombings from San Diego to Brooklyn. Lucky for you, all I care about is this-" he held up a tiny music box, "-this is the last piece of the puzzle. A bomb powerful enough to level the block."

"Cool. That it?"

Tony smiled a devilish grin. He opened a laptop to reveal Emmitt tied to a chair dirtied, crying. Em never looked up. I felt a sudden rush of unfiltered rage. "LET HIM GO!" I screamed at Tony as I lunged as far as I could. I yelled until my throat was raw.

"No! I want his life. No trade. No deal. Your Emmitt killed my Delilah. He took everything from me. Now I'll take everything from him."

"Please don't kill Em."

"I not going to kill him. I'm going to kill you."

My eyes widened. "But you-"

"I want his life. You, Philippa, are his life." Tony cackled as he wound up the music box. "Au revoir, PhilippaLefebvre ."

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die, but all I could see in my last moments was Emmitt. Emmitt was my life as much as I was his, and that was okay with me.