The Bird That Couldn't Sing (GBFF)

Chapter 38 - Sang

I shut my window behind me as softly as possible, turning around to find my room as deserted as usual. But what I don't expect is the specific scent that's laced in the air--Katherine's scent.

Though, it isn't the first time this has happened, her being in my room, and I don't see anything really amiss. There is a shirt left on my bed that I forgot to put away, which is about as messy as my room ever gets because I know just one shirt left on the bed is "filthy" in my stepmother's eyes--clothes all over the place, a tornado that's blown through my room. And considering she's been in here, I know I'll get in a lot of trouble, especially because I wasn't home right after school.

Yeah, I'm definitely not prepared for that--certainly not right after the time I just spent at Kota's house.

After we shared each others' tears, I showed Owen and Sean the note, and we've decided the best thing for me is to stay at Nathan's for the time being, while his dad is away. I think it'll be good for the both of us, and I don't think anyone here will really miss me. If anything, they'll probably be happy I'm gone.

Finally, the whore has left. Oh, but who is going to cook for us? Who's going to clean up after us? Who's going to be our punching bag? I have had a very stressful day, and I need someone to feel my pain...

Okay, maybe that's not exactly how it would go, but I'm sure I'm not too far off.

I decide to start packing a couple of things now, but not too much because Gabe said he and Victor will be taking me shopping tomorrow after school. I realize, though, that I hear nothing in the house--Marie must be gone, and Dad is still on his "business trip." But usually Katherine isn't asleep at this time; it's only 7:00 PM, and her naps only last from 3:00 to 5:30 PM.

I drop the pink shirt I was holding into my small, slightly torn-up travel bag and walk over to my bedroom door, opening it with a quiet creek and peeking my head out. Not hearing even a peep, I decide to go check on her, hoping she only fell asleep after eating the leftovers from the dinner I made last night, the one I left in the microwave for her to heat up and eat tonight.

Tiptoeing over to her bedroom door, I notice it's open and I hear no snoring. I hear nothing. But if the darkness in her room made a noise, I'd be deaf. The bathroom door connected to her room is open, but that light isn't on either. I start to get really nervous and come to the conclusion something is really wrong. Katherine doesn't like going downstairs when she's home alone. The only place she likes to be in at all times is her bedroom.

I knock on the door, praying she isn't just hiding for some reason and she isn't about to jump out and attack me, but once again, I hear nothing.

Quickly pulling the phone Victor got me out of my bra, I send a rushed text to my boys through our group chat, letting them know something is wrong. I just know it is; I can feel it in my bones, a tingling sensation that warns me to be wary of this situation.

I slip the phone back into my bra (because I'm not wearing anything with pockets, and if Katherine is for some reason in here, I don't want her to know I have a phone.) And I ignore the buzzing coming from it--all of my boys' worried texts. Stepping a little further into the room, both my hands out in front of me so I don't trip on anything, I inch closer and closer to her bed and almost slip on something that's spilled on her hardwood floor, and then I feel crunching under my shoes.

My nose scrunches in confusion as I bend down a little to inspect what I just stepped in, one hand placed on the bed for support, and immediately get a whiff of the only thing I hate more than Katherine herself: lemon juice and vinegar. My eyes bulge and a strangled noise comes from my still-burning throat. I swiftly stand and slide my hand a little further... and the bedsheets are wet... and I think I felt a hand... and... and...