Diary Of A Tomboy

Chapter 30

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We stop by at the backside of the house in a complete hurry. I was a mess. The last thing I needed is for another person to die because of me. Jen follows me before I stop in my tracks and take out a pen.

"Jen. Stay here, so far your the only one who knows about this. If I don't come back in an hour then..." I take a deep breath, "This is Logan's number. If I go inside there, I may never come back.." I take his palm in my hands before scribbling Logan's number on it.

"You can't just say your gonna die, you need to fight it off!" He protests.

"If fighting things off were the solution; then there was no problem in this world"

"Wait" he stops me. He turns to his bag and searches in it before taking out a black yet tiny box out.

"If this is the last time we're gonna see each other, then Stuff this in your pocket. Whatever goes on, it will record any conversation" he lends me the box with a serious expression.

"Jen... If I don't come back like I said, don't ever come upstairs" I weakly smile at him but fail miserably. He returns me with a approving but faint smile.

I walk past the doorway and send my prayers that I'll be back; but successful. Tears force themselves to pour out as I swallow them. If I could, I would erase everything, including ever meeting Naomi.
If she hadn't talked to me that day in the cafeteria, I wouldn't be in a certain point of my life that I want to willingly give myself just to stop this murdering cycle. But I wouldn't take anything back. This wasn't her fault, not mine; Thompson wasn't the one in the fault either. But this is what happens when no one believes.

The same scenario at the Evergreen club is happening right now; hopeless drinking and dancing. I ignore those snobby looks and make my ways to the stairways in an aim to reach Thompson, only this time; I don't fear of choking myself like Travis, like Thompson.

Only one floor left to the room.

Every step that I was taking was pulling my heart down and down to the point that it's like daggers shoving it down. The walls were slowly shrinking and moving closer to each other. I wish they would swallow me into a dark pit.

It's empty.

It's fucking empty. Where is Thompson? He wasn't staring his balls out at the sea when I was coming here. No one was yelling nonsense at the sea when I came; and he doesn't have anyone to run to. His whole family left him.

He basically has nowhere other than this stupid room to stay and a book to write about spooky things in.

My thoughts were interrupted when a faint noise like 'Tap' comes from behind.

Something stung at my back. What is going on?

I felt nothing before it stung way harder than my leg before. I wanted to scream, shout, but nothing came out. I couldn't breath, I couldn't see.
Before I could take a second to feel what in the world hit me my vision blurs like a smoke on a window. Thompson's room keeps getting darkened by a shade of black as I fall on my knees and my hands search for the spot.

Losing my sight of almost everything, my eyes screw shut and I carelessly fall into the wooden floor.

I could only hear things, but couldn't register what it was; was it someone's voice? Was a chaos happening just like years ago?
Someone was taking me. Did Jen call Logan? I was gone for so long; more than an hour. I didn't want to wake up.

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A kick in my hip waked me to reality before my eyes snap open.

I was in a blank room with only a light bulb weakly showing me my whereabouts. It was empty, nothing was in the room or anyone. There was a thick, heavy smell of smoke and gas. My nose scrunched. It takes me minutes to see my arms are tied together. It wasn't tight, thankfully. But it was a strong, beige-colored rope.

My skin goosebumps when a warm and heavy breathing hits it. Someone was behind me. The breathing slowly faints until it turns into a weak whine.

"Thompson?" I blurt.

It was him.

He was dying, just like he said. 17th May is just around the corner. He had the same clothes on; only he was tied just like me. His hair was back to its first place, it wasn't black like Travis's hair And his skin was shimmering with sweat.

The color drains from his Already-Pale face when high heels tap against the hard wood. Even a ghost wouldn't scare Thompson from his awfully low luck. I turn around to see who could've scared him to this point.

Diana.

I'd recognize her face anywhere.

"Finally. Awake?" She impatiently rolls her eyes. I wonder what would she do if I ripped apart  her black designer dress with my nails.

"What do you think?" I fire back.

Her eyes sarcastically widen before her head falls back into loud cackles. Is this some movie role? Villains laughing at there victims?

"So yeah, You seem to know me. Any problem?" She changes the subject.

Oh yes, there are many problems I would like to talk about. But I would prefer to punch my balled fists into your perfectly edited nose that you must've spent thousands of money on it; and how you earned that money, no one knows.

"No" I answer before she yawns. So fake. "Why are we even here?" I cut her off.

"Oh, Good thing you reminded me" she wickedly purses her lips. She flicks her fingers and a loud echo snaps through the room.

In an instant Thompson's head violently dumps into the ground and he screams in pain; it was even louder than when he yelled at the sea.

Only to make Diana laugh like a psycho.

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Chapters starting from this one are Very crucial and full of hints lying behind them! So read with wariness!
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