One Deception

Chapter Six

Written by Kay (TheCrazySide)

Just to be clear, Kenz and I both adore Eleanor, Louis, Harry, etc. As this story goes on, you may come to think worse or better of them all, and we love them all to pieces! We didn't think it needed to be said, but this is a very fictional story, haha. We love them all! 
 

Chapter Six
Miranda

Thump. 

“I’ll give you anything, whatever you want! Please!”

Crash. 

“You’re not supposed to be like this, please! I’m a fan, I swear!” 

Scream.

“I’m begging you… please. I’m so sorry, whatever I did. Please, just let me go.” 

Laugh. 

I choked on my own breath, hearing the girl’s tortured screams and the whoops and hollers of the others upstairs. 

Rosalie, as strong as she’d acted up to this point, was shaking in her chair, staring hard at the opposite wall. I could tell by the way her jaw was clenched and a tear tracked a smudged line down her cheek, she was internally screaming as much as the other girl. 

Who knew how long we had before that was us?

It was starting all over again. The same thing that happened to Jane was happening to someone else. I was hearing them dying in the very same house as me, and I couldn’t do anything except listen to their suffering.

“No,” the word ripped from my throat roughly, sounding hoarse and weak even to my own ears. “No, no, no,” silence fell from above us and I knew it was done, the girl was dead. “Please, someone… anyone…” 

I didn’t know who I was begging or praying to, and by the way Rosalie turned to finally look at me, I could tell she didn’t know either. 

“Miranda, calm down,” she said, and I knew she was trying to keep me from making even more racket and drawing their attention. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. We were going to die anyways right? 

“We’re going to die,” I was crying again, maybe even hysterical. The effort made my chest hurt from the blows I’d received from Harry days earlier, but it didn’t matter. I was going to suffocate from this room alone, and no one knew it except the people planning to kill me. “Please, don’t let me die!” 

Rosalie was regarding me with a gaze that suggested she thought I lost it, and maybe I had. But I could also tell by her tense glances towards the door that she was very concerned now. 

“Miranda, listen to me,” she said, her tone sharp. 

I cringed at the name, my name, but tried to do as she said.

“They’re all probably still high and in the killing mood from that girl,” she said urgently, focusing on me the whole time. “Attract their attention and they probably wouldn’t mind killing you too,” the harsh words made me cringe again, but I tried to make myself understand that she was right. “So if you don’t want to die, you need to be quiet. Now.” 

Even in my probably unhealthy state of mind, I was able to acknowledge the fact that that she was right. Though it seemed rare, with adrenaline racing from killing the other girl, it probably wasn’t a false statement to say that they wouldn’t mind killing another.