When I make it outside the girls are all in one blob, looking confused. I guess I'm the only one with a phone. I pull it out of my back pocket and turn it on. When the screen comes up I dial 911.
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After the police came and Miranda and some other girls were taken to the hospital, the remainder of us were given blankets. We each had to be checked for infection from our wounds. I had to get stitches on my arm from when I was cut with the chainsaw. The experience of getting stitches was itself terrible.
The police were confused when they saw us. I told them about Mr. Oh'Riley and how I shot him. They went inside the warehouse and came out angry. I walk towards a passing officer.
"What's going on?" I asked him. He looked like he was ready to run off or something.
"Well, that man you were with...he's gone."
YOU ARE READING
Stains Of My Past
Mystery / ThrillerBruises, cuts, stitches. They are all things that leave marks. Some, after time, fade away, never to be seen again. But they were still there. Even if you try to forget, to move on. They still existed.
