Brooks P.O.V
"What the fuck, Chris?! You should have let me know about this earlier!" I hung up as Chris began rambling excuses from the other end of the phone. But I didn't fucking care as I threw the phone across my room and I ran my hands through my hair, seething.
What Chris said ran through my head on a repeat and each time I rewound the one line in my head, my heart clenched tighter and tighter, till I felt like I couldn't breath.
'I think Clary's killing herself tonight.' I paced my bedroom and stopped as realization swepted across my mind.
He said tonight... He said she was killing herself. Tonight! Fucking Damn it!! I rushed over towards my phone and swiped my keys and wallet from my desk as I ran out of my room and down the hallway.
I glanced down at my phone and clicked Clary's name in my contacts. I pressed the phone to my ear as I grabbed my coat that I'd thrown into the hallway during Chris' call. I began to tug the leather jacket on as I pressed the phone between my ear and shoulder.
I grabbed the phone in my hand as the line just continued ringing. I swung myself over the side of the stairway and over the railing. I landed perfectly fine on the ground and ran out my front door. I barely heard the door slam as I abruptly stopped in front of my bike."I'm sorry, but the person you are trying to call is not available." The female recording filled my mind and I swore loudly as I turned the key in the ignition of my bike. It roared to life and I swung myself onto the seat. I pulled out, barely kicking the stand up before I was flying down the road towards Clary's house.
I barely paid attention to the wind, tousling my hair out of place nor the ice I was usually worried about.
I felt like I was hyperventilating by the time I parked my bike near the curb, not caring about the kickstand as I swung myself off my back and across her lawn. I rushed up the doorstep, not caring as my bike hit the cement curb with a loud screech. I was shaking as I pounded on the door.
I picked at the skin over my knuckles, tugging the skin. I barely felt the pain that began to radiate from my red skin as I took in a deep breath. No one was answering.
I waited another second, which felt more like hours, until I turned the knob and slammed the door open. I entered her house, looking around frantically. I see her backpack against the wall next to the door andI pick it up as I look around.
'She's still here.' I set the backpack back down as I walk around and past the living room. I walk towards the kitchen when I spot stairs leading up from the corner of my eye. It was too quiet. Too silent.
I look around and seeing nothing or hearng nothing I begin to walk back into the living room.
"Clary?!" I call out and I hear my voice practically echo in the gigantic house. No one responds.
I pick up my phone about to dial the cops as I walk towards the door, till a loud crash resonates from upstairs. Before I know it I am rushing through the kitchen and up the stairs, two steps at a time. I press the speed dial for the cops as I reach the top step. I look at the doors lining the hallway and panic sets in as silence settles over the house once more and I clutch my phone tightly up to my ear.
"Whats your emergency?" A womans voice asks from the other line of the phone.
"I-i think my...my girlfriend is attempting suicide...." I reply lowly as I open the first door on my right. No ones or literally nothing is in there, except a box, overfilling with clothes. I shut the door and turn around approaching the door opposite to me.
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Belonging to Brooks
Short StoryLife seems perfect from the outside. Atleast for everyone else who looks at the family that Clary thought she needed and craved. The love they promised, drew her in. But growing up being thrown from foster home to foster home? She should've known...