Insane - Who Are You To Judge? (Gripping Psychological Thriller)

Chapter 15 - Avery

The two of them only buy drinks to go and before I know it, they're flicking their overly-bleached blonde hair and clacking their wildly inappropriate stiletto heels back out the door.

I pull my phone out to take my usual fake call and casually amble out after them.

I don't have to put in much of an effort to make it look as though I am not following them since Beauty is too wrapped up in herself and her little Chihuahua is so intent on lapping up every word that comes out of her cherry red lips, they wouldn't see me anyway.

Beauty sighs, exhaustion in her eyes with an expression reading oh why is my oh-so-popular life just so much work.

"So, now as much as I don't want to admit it – like to anyone – I think I kinda like him. I can't believe those words are coming out of my mouth, I mean him? So not cool."

"Yeah, he's such a loser," the Chihuahua snorts with an overly-exaggerated laugh. Beauty death-stares her, clearly thinking and you are talking because...?

She quickly realises and shrivels back up, handing the limelight back to Beauty. "So, have you told him yet?"

"God no, are you kidding? If I told him, he would think that he had me and if he thought that, this would have to end right now. I can't have him thinking he's good enough for me then he wouldn't try anymore."

Oh Jesus, this Beauty is far more pretentious than I'd read about. Isn't she meant to be humble and kind? Ah well, can't have it all.

By this point I have been tailing them for a good fifteen minutes – completely unnoticed, I might add.

Having made the decision that she is the right one, I have to track her to her final destination, so that I can start gathering the details. And find out about Beast, of course. As much of a shock as this might be to Beauty, she isn't the only one this tale concerns.

So far, the roads they've gone down have been relatively crowded so I didn't stick out like a sore thumb. However, the next turning they make as a shortcut takes them down an alleyway, and I think even they would notice me then.

I decide to wait a few moments until they have reached the other end before going through myself. The two White Chicks won't exactly be difficult to find again.

When I reckon the coast is clear, I begin to trace their footsteps. Since the sun buggered off already, the alleyway is dimly lit by the greyness of the clouds. It isn't a very long stretch; it should take thirty seconds to walk through – if that. Yet, for some reason it feels as though I am pacing through the eerie tunnel for minutes and never reaching the end.

The breeze suddenly picks up and the cruel cold air whispers in my ear, gripping my neck. Strands of hair are thrown across my face, impairing my vision of what's ahead, and the screaming of the wind prevents me from hearing what's behind me.

Something hits the back of my neck. I slap my hand on the point of pain to find it bare. I jerk my head back, changing my window of view. No one's there.

Footsteps. Footsteps patter to the side of me. I'm sure of it. I see a glimpse of a shadow in my peripheral vision. The skips I pass rustle. I do a three-sixty view, but still I see nothing.

What's wrong with me? Am I going mad?

I've got to pull myself together. I need to pull myself together.

I have been walking through for five minutes now, surely. But I am only halfway through.

The walls surrounding me seem to mute the comforting murmurings of busy civilians either end of the alleyway. It feels silent. Too silent. Dead silent.

I'm sure I'm going mad. I'm convinced I'm going mad.

Something hits me again. This time bigger, this time harder, this time in the back of my knees. They buckle. My unprepared hands fail to soften the blow, remaining firmly at my sides. My head smashes against the ground and I taste a bitterness on my tongue. A scent all too familiar.

I wasn't being paranoid. I wasn't going mad. I can now feel the shadow that's been lurking all week towering over me.

My brain is expanding in my skull at such a rapid pace that the sharp sting is almost unbearable. I cough red into my elbow – a colour I am far less used to seeing when it comes from my own mouth.

I slowly turn around and prop myself up on my elbows to face the silhouette. At first, it's only an outline – I can't make out who it is.

"Nice to see you again." A voice. A sweet voice. A sweet voice trying to appear menacing.

Slowly, the pieces start to fall in place and my vision becomes clear.

My racing heart calms and the ringing in my ear silences.

My voice is not shaky or frail as my mind was only a split second ago. "Likewise," I reply with a thin smile growing, "Cinderella."

Sorry, Beauty, your time will have to wait. Looks like another princess has taken your place.