LETTERS SHE WROTE.
❝I hope that someday when I am gone,
someone, somewhere, picks my soul up
off of these pages and thinks:
I would have loved her. ❞
OUTER BANKS.
BOOK ONE of the LETTERS TRILOGY.
[ SEASONS 1 - 2 ]
****
I do not own any rights to Ou...
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[ xii. get out ]
➸➸➸
THE FIVE TEENAGERS WERE frozen in petrified silence, their sun-kissed, trembling bodies pressed against the far side of Big John's office as they anxiously peered through the rickety blinds of a musty window, watching two darkly-clothed figures approach the Chateau. With tearful eyes opened wide, quivering jaws dropped with horror and youthful hearts beating much too quickly in fragile chests to be safe, the five teenagers knew there was no denying that the violent men from the marsh had come back to finish what they had ultimately started.
"Oh, my God," Willa Deveraux whimpered, bringing a jeweled up to her mouth, snapping her gaping jaw shut. She was the first to fall away from the window, backing up harshly against a wobbly table as she hastily blinked, already desperately trying to force from her mind the terrifying image of two burly men with gleaming handguns guns making their way right towards her.
Pope Heyward swallowed tightly and looked away from the window next, his smooth features twisted with pained disbelief. "This is suboptimal," He concluded grimly.
"John B., I told you!" JJ Maybank hissed quietly, jerking a stern finger in his best friend's direction. The riled blonde swiftly backed away from the window and stalked right past Willa as he made his way to the opposite side of the office, raking his hands through his disheveled hair. Unable to pace any further, he began to angrily mumble to himself, working himself into a panic. "Why does it always—"
Before JJ could finish his frightful tirade, John B. Routledge was noiselessly crossing the room and tightly grabbing a hold of his friend and ripping him back into their cruel reality with a firm shake of his shoulders. "JJ! Hey! Hey, look at me!" John B. pleaded, his voice no higher than a whisper, but strong and precise all the same. "Where's the gun?"
"G-Gun?" JJ sputtered out, his mind spiraling dangerously out of his own grasp as he stared blankly past his best friend. His wide, icy blue eyes flickered towards the office's closed door, likely consumed by the grizzly thought of the two men bursting inside in only a few minutes. JJ could not think of anything but the approaching threat, of the fact that they were actually here—the men that had nearly killed Lana were coming to kill them next. "I, uh, I c-can't—"
Still alone at the window, Kiara Carrera stifled a sob that threatened to spill from her blubbering lips, but her eyes were now filled with tears, giving her evident fear away entirely. "Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun?!" She exclaimed uneasily. Of the five teenagers, Kiara was the closest to breaking under the quickly approaching threat, her hands knotted together over her mouth to keep her building cries silent.
"I-It was in my b-backpack," JJ frowned as he spoke, the words breaking up in odd places as he struggled to keep himself sanely and firmly planted to the dusty oak floorboards that he currently stood upon. "and then I left it—"
