Day 8

71 13 28
                                    

Warning: Content briefly mentions suicide. Reader's discretion is advised.

Please add this story to your public reading list. It helps me as a writer and helps you keep updated on my works : )

Day 8


When I wake up, I feel Brandon's head leaning against mine.

I've fallen asleep on his shoulders, though I don't remember it. I shift on the bed, trying to maneuver my way out, but he wakes up anyway.

He picks his head up and his eyes slowly open. He gives me a lazy smile. "Morning."

"You didn't wake me up," I note, looking up at the clock above the TV. 1 pm.

"I thought I could stay awake, What with a killer and all. Guess I was too tired to care at the moment."

"Don't expect me to thank you," I gripe.

He pouts. "Now that's just cold!"

I scoff lightly, about to make a remark when Jared appears at the door.

His eyes looks between us in surprise, but he doesn't comment on it. "Common area. Now."

I sit up straighter, noticing the deep lines creased into a frown and the redness in his eyes. "Who?" I asked bleakly.

He sighs and looks down at the ground. "Charlie."

* * *

"You said you locked him in the pantry," Elijah yells in Jared's face.

"I did," Jared replies with a sigh. "It wasn't him."

"Then who was it? Huh? Who the hell killed Charlie? I swear if you don't kill Daniel right now, I'll-"

"He hung himself in the pantry," Henry says quietly.

We all stare at him, and then at Jared for confirmation. He nods solemnly. "Daniel killed himself in the pantry and Charlie was stabbed with a screwdriver in the neck on the third floor. It wasn't him." There's a collective sound of gasps as we all process the information in our minds.

And to think Charlie had the virus all along. I turn to gage Nick's reaction to all of this, and lose my breath when I remember that he's no longer with us.

"It could be Gwen," Brandon says quietly. "We still haven't found her."

"Where's Charlie's body?" Someone behind me asks.

"She's still in the cleaning closet," Jared says. His hand begins to shake. "I can't... I can't do this anymore. I can't clean it up."

The cleaning closet. That must've been the sound we heard last night. Brandon and I look at one another, wild-eyed, knowing without saying it. We could've saved her.

We look away quickly, choosing to remain silent.

"I'll do it," Henry suddenly says. Jared looks relieved as he slumps down on the sofa.

"Thanks man, but you're gonna need help. There's a lot of..."

"I'll help," I say quietly. It's the least I can do. Guilt clings to my ribs as I think about all of the warning signs that turned out not to be at all.

Brandon stands up. "No it's fine. I'll do it."

I look up at him gratefully and give him a tight smile, slightly relieved.

He nods in return and walks out with Henry in tow.

* * *

"Anna, can we talk?"

CORONAWhere stories live. Discover now