I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Sixty-Second Chapter

The next day or two we dont do a lot. We just wait.

Pete and I write some lyrics, though, and it seems that the album is selling well.

I touch pen to paper and read what is already formed on the page.

Are you ready for another bad poem?

One more off key anthem.

Let my teeth sink in.

Remember me as I was not as I am.

Pete reads over my shoulder and makes an approving sound.

I start to write again.

And I said, Ill check in tomorrow, if I dont wake up dead.

I kept wishing she had blonde ambition and shed let it go to my head.

I look up and he smiles.

"You know, what would be even crazier is if-"

Theres a knock at the door.

I swear all our faces snap to stare at the door at once.

My heart is at rabbits pace as I stand and try and walk towards the door. I dont even know why Im trying to answer it. Theres another knock at the door.

I turn to face the guys before opening the lock and pulling the door open.

"Hello?" I barely whisper.

My legs feel like watery jelly and I can feel tears form in my eyes.

"Is anyone there?" I say slightly louder. The door is fully open now.

A man, of at least 6 foot, is holding up a picture of my face. He has a scar running across his face and his lips are formed in a snarl.

"Who is that? You- urm- you must be mistaken?"

I step back slowly into the house, my feet padding hesitantly. My hands cling the door and I plan to slowly close it.

The man just steps inside with me.

I turn and look at the guys. They are so short that they wouldnt even reach this guys shoulders.

"Can I help you?" Patrick asks the man from across the room.

Andy does weights, right?

The man drops the picture on the floor and I watch it drop.

I need to get some better head shots for when this kind of thing happens.

I look back up at the man. I am about the size of his arm. This is weird.

"Im here for Jessica." He says.

His voice is light and musical, completely different to how he looks.

I stay standing strong for as long as I can. Suddenly my wall drops and I turn and run, jumping behind the sofa.

Tears rim my eyes and my hands are shaking. Nobody moves.

"Im not leaving until she comes with me." The man continues.

"Heres an idea." Pete whispers over the back of the sofa. "Youve got the bracelet, and we have the police. Make it easier to end this."

"Are you trying to kill me?" I whisper back desperately.

"No, they wont kill you, they want you to be alive and with them."

I take deep long breaths and shake my hands.

"Dont panic, it will end okay, thats how it works."

That is how it works. Of course.

"Dont have all day." The man stamps and I swear the whole room shakes.

I wipe a tear from my cheek and give a fleeting look to each of the guys. They are frozen.

"Look-"

He stamps across the room and I curl up on the floor.

"No!" Patrick stands up.

The man backhands him and I can hear the slap from where I am huddling by the sofa. I gasp at the sound.

This is unreal.

A hand snakes around my stomach and lifts me off my feet. When I realise the intentions I start squirming and struggling.

"Patrick!" I cry out at him. He doesnt respond.

I pinch the mans arm and kick him. I try and pry him off me with all Ive got.

"Dont even try." The man. mumbles, carrying me across the room.

I catch a glimpse of Patrick curled up on the floor, blood pouring from his face. Joes is huddled over him, tending to him quietly.

"Let me go!" I yell. "Patrick!"

I kick harder and harder until he stops walking.

"Lets make it easier." He mumbles, pulling something out of his pocket.

He hold a syringe in the air as he adjusts it.

"Now keep still."

Pete stands up from the sofa as the syringe plummets into my neck. I scream at the violence and reach out towards Pete.

Theres is blood at the bottom of Patrick nice, clean wall.

Everything slows and I let my hand droop and my eyes flutter closed. Pete is walking towards me, but its too late.