Chapter Eight: "I Look Like A Troll"

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There's music that goes along with just the first portion of this chapter just to further explain how Emma is feeling.

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It's been three days since I lost Chris and my heart has not stopped beating out of my chest. I hear feeble knocks on my door and my mother walks in.

"Dear," she looks at me, "You need to get up."

I look up at her, my body too numb to respond. She grabs my arm and I tug away.

"It should have been me," I weakly smile.

"No, you're a fighter. It's good you're still alive, better him than my daughter," she softly speaks.

I breathe quickly feeling adrenaline pump through my vein.

"Next time someone you love dies brutally, remind me to tell you to suck it up as well!" I scream at her, hot tears falling. I stand up and push her out of my room. I slam my door shut and fall against it, heavy sobs shaking my body. I start to bang my head against the door and pull on my hair. The sound of the doorbell faintly rings, snapping me into reality. I stand up and walk over to my bed. I hear muffled talking and the door shutting once again. I stuff my head into my pillow and scream into it.

I sit there without making a move for several minutes before I start to hear something hit against my window. I rub away tears from my red face and walk over. I pull the curtains to see Will throwing rocks. I slide my window over and stick my head out. A rock came flying at my face. A sharp pain shoots through my body and I start to cry. I feel so weak. I haven't eaten since that day and my body was shutting down on me.

I hear Will quietly snicker. The snickering stops and I look down at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"What kind of a question is that? No, of course I am not. One of my best friends just got killed and I wasn't able to save him. You also just threw a rock at my face," I bark.

"I-I um I'm sorry," he apologizes, "Can you let me in?"

"I don't see why I should, but sure," I hiss.

I slowly start to go downstairs. Ethan sees me and goes pale. I look away from him in shame. I hear him sigh and walk away. My parents stare at me from the kitchen and look at me with disgust. I open the door and see Will's beaming smile. How can anyone be smiling at this time? I glare at him and move out of the way to let him in. He smiles goes away once he steps inside. He looks down at his shoes. I usher him to follow me. We walk to my room in an awkward silence. I close my door and lock it behind Will and me.

"First off, how did you find my house. Second, why are you here?" I fretted.

"One, I looked on snapchat, two, I felt like you needed company," he sympathized.

"Why can't I just be left alone?"

"Emma, you look horrible."

"Well that's an odd way of trying to cheer someone up," I groan, sitting on my bed.

"I'm just trying," he inhales.

"And I'm not?" I sneer.

"You know you're not angry at me, or your mom for that matter," he waves towards the door.

"Yeah, then who am I mad at?" I scoff, " Because it seems you guys just keep on pissing me off."

"Maybe, but I think you're mad at Chris' killer. Am I wrong?" he sits down next to me.

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