5:30 [ 30 Reasons to Die: xxstoptryingxx's one shot contest ]

5:17 (Jeff)

"I'll take that!" I said snatching the vodka on Regina's hand. Then I wink at her so that she could let me get away with it.

"Wow, my vodka suddenly disappeared! That's magic!" She said with full sarcasm.

Loud music, check!

Nachos on the table, check!

Alcohols on the side, check!

Tricky lights, check!

No neighbors nearby, check!

No parents, check!

I go upstairs and have a head count of how many people are there in my party. 1...2...3...23, including me. I invited many people in Facebook to attend my first party bash yet only one-fourth have shown up.

I got into my room. I lay down as I browse through my phone. I don't feel like coming down at all. I mean, I like fun. I love fun. But I feel like there is something missing. I called Leraine but she wasn't answering. I ended up texting her, "Where are you? It's 5:17 already."

I like Leraine. I love Leraine. It's not just because he's pretty or nice to me or we see things the same, instead I don't even know the reason. But do I really need a reason? Because loving someone doesn't mean that you love because she's only like this or like that, you love her because of her full package.

Maybe that's the reason why Cath loved me. Pfft, what the hell am I thinking. I never wanted to think about her. I never regretted that I am not guilty for her death. After all, before I get guilty, the other 29 should be guilty first. I've known some people who've got the letters but it doesn't affect them so why should I bother joining the sympathy parade?

I received a reply from Leraine. It was a picture of a sketcher shoes lying on our school's bathroom tiles. Then a message came next, "Cinderella's gonna be late for the ball xoxo~" I giggled at her humor.

"Why aren't you answering my calls?" I asked

"Hush dear, we have a midnight to spare our doubts and problems away!"

"Okay princess."

I logged in my Facebook account. I have a lot of friend request, messages and notifications but I am not on the mood for checking any. I scroll down my news feed and see different posts from friends and shares.

Then the notification bell rung. I looked at it and saw someone liked and commented in a picture I recently posted.

That's weird. I haven't posted something about the party or recently. I opened it up and saw a picture. It's not just any ordinary picture. It's not a selfie of me nor any picture of mine or anybody I know. But whoever hacked my account and post this, surely he is out of his mind. It was a picture of a girl who's face in on the toilet bowl. Spills of blood are scattered on the floor. The knife is still on the victim's neck.

Usually, in pictures like this, I wouldn't give a fuck. It's a murder. Every second, there is someone there being murdered by someone so I am not surprised by the thought or image of it. But one thing caught my eyes in this picture, it was the setting and the victim's shoe.

The flooring of the setting is quite similar to the ones in school. The victim's shoe is similar to the shoes that Leraine is wearing.

... And Leraine is still in the school.

I deleted the picture that I never posted. I got hacked. I got hacked by the someone. Surely that someone might be involve in the picture posted. It might be the murderer playing with us. While people downstairs are playing and having their best time, I am left here panicking on what should I do. I open my contacts and about to call 911 but then the lights flicker making me distracted. Then I heard scratches on the window that makes an eerie sound, and it is annoying. I drop the phone and decided to look at the window. I opened my window and said, "What do you want?!"

Of course, there were no response. Making me a fool, I closed the window but before I can close it completely, something stopped me. It was the tree that stopped me. Not the actual beauty of the tree but what's on the branches. There were no insects nor significant phenomenas that involves nature. There was something hanging on the tree. It was a letter. It was a crumpled letter. It was familiar.

But I know I threw it in the trash.

Because if I am not mistaken, It was Cath Lennings's letter for me that hangs on the tree.

I don't know what soul made me reach for the letter. It's not that near nor far but it is reachable by my arms. Slipping through my arms to the window, I reached for the letter. But then the window came down making my arm caught in between. I tried lifting up the window but I can't. I don't know if it's just because I have no strength in my left arm but I have a feeling that there is a force pulling it down. I scream the pain but It felt like it was for nothing because the shouts of the people downstairs and the loud music, overthrew my voice. My arms are turning violet. My veins are bulging out. The pain grows. My scream got louder.

Until my left arm fell off.

There comes the pain and because of the force, I lay down on the floor. I closed my eyes because of the pain. The pain is pulling me down. I felt dizzy but never in my life I became afraid of my own blood. I opened my eyes.

And I saw the ugliest view.

It was Cath Lennings. She looks dead with her skin very pale and a cold atmosphere is surrounding us. She is looking at me. She is directly looking at me. I can't read her. I don't know if she is sad, depress or angry. But judging of how her message was and how I am one of the shittiest person she met, then she's angry at me. Little by little, her looks got normal. Until I saw her normal face, the true and alive face of Cath Lennings. She still is looking at me.

She still is looking at me... then she vomited at me! I close my eyes because of disgust.

But the vomit never touched me.

But instead somebody blocked my face with pillow. And it was not a friendly game of pillows because of how tightly the pillow was in my face, you know that killing me was intentionally. I was grasping for air. My left arm extends as I grab a reach for air but I ended up touching someone's hair. The hair is long and smooth. She is a girl.

Then my left arm fell and closed its palm.

She killed me.

***

Author's note:

Heyyy! So I am writing the third or last chapter for this.The next chapter is going to be the revelation of who is behind all these murder stuffs going on and why is she doing this murder stufffffs. Do you have any guesses? Write it in the comment box!

- Velvet Spade