The Revenge

12

Emma's POV

I felt like I was floating in the air. What in the world- oh my god! Did I die? Did he kill me? I knew it was bad to stay! Jesus. Am I in heaven? Do you think you can be in heaven? You're probably in hell. My brain retorted. That's true.

I tried to open my eyes and after a number of attempts, I finally opened them to see Noah's face. I couldn't help myself and I have no idea what got into me that I screamed. Weird, I know.

Oomph. I fell to the floor with a thud. So, he was carrying me. Ouch, my ass hurts. I glared at him, fury written all over my face and he looked at me and said, "Are you fucking crazy? Why did you scream?"

"I got scared." I retorted. "Why did you drop me?!"

"I got startled!" he grunted.

I looked around to see I was still in his house. And then I screeched remembering last night's events, " Are YOU crazy?! You have an injured arm!! You dipshit! It could have seriously hurt you! Oh god! Do you really want to die?! Dumbo." I ranted as he scowled at me.

"Shut up." He snarled. I flinched and continued glaring. Wait, was he taking me somewhere to kill me?

"Where were you taking me?" I asked in a rude manner.

"To my room?" my eyes widened as I coughed and he shot me a weird look.

"Why?!" thank god I woke up.

He looked at me dead in the eye and muttered, annoyed, "I was taking you to my room so that you could sleep rather comfortably and not because I wanted to take advantage of you or kill you." Oh. He he. I smiled inwardly; maybe he wasn't that bad of a person. Maybe I could give him a chance? Nah, I'll pass. Think about it. He technically murdered grams!

I stood up and brushed the dust off my shorts. That's when I realized I was still in my tank top and my shirt was bloody. If I went out like that, people would think I murdered someone.

You tried shooting someone though, my subconscious rebuked. This, ugh!

I peeked around and then stared at Noah who was looking at the kitchen for some reason, creep.

"Umm... would you mind lending me a jacket or a shirt, I don't feel comfortable in this and if I wore my shirt, people will think I killed someone." I felt ashamed asking him like this, I've been nothing but rude to him, but I needed one!

He looked amused and studied me for a while as I nervously played with my fingers, looking anywhere but his eyes. "You technically tried to shoot someone, twice."

"Well, I didn't kill that son of a bitch." You wanted to.

He smirked, "Wait, I'll be back." This guy is just weird, well not weird, creepy maybe? Why is he even helping me? I threatened him so many times? I was nothing but a bitch to him.

He disappeared into the hallway and I waited, glancing around. In no time, he came out of some room and handed me a black hoody. Quickly, I put it on and forced out a small thank you.

With that, I rushed out of his house, back to my own which took me long but somehow I enjoyed being in his hoodie. What on earth is happening to me?! He is a killer! Stop. Am I? Oh hell no!