ambition // cazzie (REWRITING 7-11)

ten (old)

─ ❝ WARNING ❞ ─
This chapter will include heavy gore.

Casey's POV

Another hour had passed. No one has come in since Nate came to check in on me and now I'm starting to wonder if Izzie's gonna starve me.

Again, seems to be her style, though I'd imagine she'd wanna kill me off herself. Priming me for the moment, I guess.

I was pacing around the small room. Picking at the sides of the windowsill had gotten boring enough and I found myself pondering about the inevitable- I was a goner.

Well, at least this is an interesting way to go out. I'm not gonna go out by something boring like a drive-by shooting because I got in the way of a drug deal, no- I've started a war with the biggest mafia in the area. Probably the entire state.

I don't care if I die. Yeah, it'll suck and most definitely hurt, but I've learnt to accept it. The one thing Doug taught me when I was younger was to never fear death. Especially when you're working in this field; the chance of you dying is high.

I leaned against one of the walls and slid to the floor, feeling the hem of my shirt ride up as my back dragged against the drywall. Maybe I'll just sleep for a while longer. There's nothing to do.

I let my eyes close and my breathing slow as I tried to drift off, letting my mind wander.

It seemed to be raining now because I could hear something hitting the window. Though, as I focused on it more, I realized that it may not be rain. It wasn't so persistent and sounded a little rougher than rain.

I opened my eyes in time to see something hitting the glass and I stood up, walking toward the window to investigate.

My eyes lit up as I recognized a very familiar figure standing near the bottom.

Sharice.

She had a handful of pebbles in her hand and she waved up to me when I saw her. How the hell did she find me?

I could see her start to talk but I couldn't hear her well due to the closed window. I made an X with my fingers and pointed toward my ear, seeing a wave of confusion wash over Sharice. After a moment, she understood.

She pulled her hand up to her chest and balled it into a fist, throwing it forward a few times. It took me a moment to realize she was symbolizing breaking the window, and I shook my head.

I made the same gesture but cradled my hand, giving her a faux-pained look. Sharice's brows furrowed and I could see a lightbulb light up above her head as she got another idea.

She grabbed something out of the air and gestured wrapping it around her fist, then threw her arm forward again. What is she doing, bandaging her arm? That would only work after due to all of the broken glass.

Oh, a blanket. That would shield my hand and arm a bit better if I broke the window.

I held up my index finger and went to go grab one of the covers off the bed, wrapping it around my fist and arm. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing.

Clayton would probably hear me break the window. Once I had an exit, I had to get out of there quick.

I took a deep breath as Sharice watched me intently from below. I reared my arm back and threw it forward, feeling my fist make contact with the glass.