Fixing Me ∞ Hood

Chapter 29 - Danger

A/N: Finally! An update!! Sorry for such a long wait! I hope it's good :-/ And I might be putting names on the chapters, just letting you know... I think I'll be doing that soon! Anyways, I hope you guys like this! I don't know whether it's good or not... tell me what you guys think! ily all xoxx 

 Why is it always me? And why is it always guns or knives? Can’t it be, I don’t know, marshmallows or something? 

I quickly rolled out of the way, and the knife lodged itself into the ground where my body would have been. The hooded guy seemed to panic, seeing that his knife was stuck in the ground and he couldn’t pull it out, I took this as a getaway chance. I rushed to push myself up off the ground and damp ground and started running. You know, I’m really sick of running. I really am. And with my heart condition, why is it always me running. Seriously, I mean, go and bother someone who actually deserves it. Someone who has murdered someone or something. Well, at least this person was stupid enough to come after me in daylight. I won’t be tripping over anything this time. This person is obviously an amateur; if you want to kidnap someone, do it at night, because in the day time everyone can see you and… oh crap, maybe that’s the point. It’s too obvious. No one will believe me if I say that someone is trying to kidnap me, because who would try to kidnap someone during the day. 

Fuck, not an amateur then. 

I seem really calm right now, don’t I? Well no, I’m fucking freaking out. How the hell am I suppose to be calm when there is a guy, unknown guy may I add, who is chasing after me with a knife. A knife. Like yeah ok, no need to panic, you just may or may not die right now… but that’s cool, it’s not like you’ve already ruined every relationship with anyone who cares about you… oh wait, I have.

And me, being stupid and thoughtless, didn’t run towards the exit like a normal person would. No, I ran further into the cemetery. It almost seemed like it was nearly nighttime because clouds covered up the sun, leaving the day dark and dismal. 

I ran past headstone after headstone; some small, some big. Some light, some dark. Some old and crumply, some new and shiny. Some with engravings you could see, some you could not. Some clumped together signally a family, some sad and alone. It gives me a horrible feeling up my spine, knowing that I could, potentially, be stepping on dead people. If they didn’t get cremated or anything, then their bodies were buried… bodies which I am now running over. I feel like I should say sorry, but that would be kind of pointless, no offence to the people who have passed. 

As I weaved my way through the headstones, tripping over some along the way, I found myself thinking how I always get myself into these situations? How do I always find myself in situations like this? Answer, they find me. I was just sitting there, visiting my family and attempting to write a meaningful note to a boy whose heart I broke, and a guy tries to stab me. Seriously, do people not want me to visit my family or something? First Beau and now this? I am the most unluckiest person in the world, I’m not even kidding. 

I looked up from staring at my feet as I ran to see the black hood a few headstones away, just standing there. How the hell did he get there so fast? How did he get past me? I took a sharp left, knowing that it kind of took me back the way I came, but also knowing that that is the way to the exit. After about 20 headstones, the hooded man was there again. What the hell? 

I took another left, I’m determined to go back to the exit. I know this guy is trying to change my course, but I have to get out. After running past around 30 headstones, the hooded man was only around 15 headstones in front of me. I turned around to run back the other way, but screamed as I found the hooded man 10 headstones away from me. I turned back around, confused. I stood still, my heart pounding against my chest. There’s two. I turned to my right to start running again, but only found another black hooded figure. Three.