Chapter 4- MM.

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***

Beep. Beep. Beep. As the microwave dings, or whatever it is it does, I pause the movie I was watching, and get up to go and grab my microwave noodles. My mom was going to be working till late tonight, so I had to make my own food.

Hey. Don't judge. I'm seventeen years old, I'm a high school student. Not the next master chef.

As I go to grab the bowl, I feel my hand burn, so I pull it away immediately.

"HOLY FUDGING JALAPEÑOS!!!," I shout loudly as my hand starts to throb painfully.

Remind me next time not to touch a 'fresh out of the microwave, been in there for a good five minutes' bowl. I leave my food in the microwave to cool for a while, before making my way back to the couch. I press the resume button on the remote, but the movie doesn't play. I try again a couple of times, each attempt failing. In the end ,I just give up, and decide to watch something else.

Hopelessly flicking through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch , I come to a stop at Fox News. The news reporter begins to speak.

Breaking News:"The Midnight Murderer Strikes Again. Westbrook's most vicious serial killer has struck again. After a month's hiatus, the unidentified killer, who has already claimed the lives of nine different people in Westbrook, has now claimed the life of their tenth victim. Newly married ,25 year old Timothy Jones called 911 at exactly 11:50 am, claiming that he had received one of the Midnight Murderer's trademark notes, but by the time the cops had arrived at the scene, he was already gone. Autopsy reports show that, just like the other 9 innocent victims, Timothy Jones was also killed at exactly 12:00 am. Midnight. We here at Fox News send our Condolences to Timothy Jones' family, and his wife, and we hope that the killer is caught soon."

When the report ends, I hold my head in my hands, as I take in the news. The Midnight Murderer was Westbrook's most wanted Serial Killer. Nobody knows who they are, just how they kill their victims. They first send them a note, and then they kill them at exactly 12:00 am. The bodies are barely recognisable. The killings started a year ago, and since then, there's been 9 more homicides. Well. Ten now. The victims have nothing in common, so the cops don't know how they chose their victims.

Great. Now my mom won't let me go to school on my own, she'll insist on driving me everywhere. It's not that I wasn't scared of this person, I just don't want to have to live every moment of my life in fear of getting killed. But my mom doesn't accept that, hence the reason as to why I won't be allowed to go to school,or anywhere else, alone anymore.

Yay.

***

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of my alarm. My mom came home late last night, and just as I had expected, gave me an hour long lecture on going out alone. She told me she would drive me to school from now on, but I immediately turned her down. I didn't want her to alter her whole work schedule just for me. Im seventeen , I can handle myself just fine. So instead, we talked it out like mature adults and we came to a decision that, Brody would drive me to school every morning. When I called him up to ask him if it was ok, he was more than happy to help out.

After I have had a shower, gotten dressed,sorted out the mess that is my hair, and made myself look presentable, I grab my school bag, and run downstairs. Once I am in the kitchen, I quickly make myself some toast, and gobble it down as fast as possible.

I'm not going to be late, it's just that Brody was going to be here in exactly two minutes to pick me up for school.

Placing my dirty dishes in the sink; I rapidly run to the shoe rack, grab the first pair of shoes I can find, and put them on, just as Brody pulls up outside of my house. I give my mom a kiss on the cheek, say goodbye, and am about to leave, but she opens her mouth to speak. Already knowing what she is going to say, I cut her off before she can begin and tell her. "Mom, I promise I will be safe, you don't need to worry about me, ok?" I reassure, and from the look on her face, I know my attempt hasn't gone in vain.

She nods, and smiles at me brightly, and I smile back at her just as bright. Then, excitedly, I turn on my heel, and walk speedily towards Brody's car.

"Hey." I breathe, once I am sat down in the passenger seat.

"Hey yourself," says Brody as he ruffles up my hair, and effectively ruins it.

"BRODYYYYYY," I whine playfully. "It took me forever to do my hair this morning."

He chuckles amusedly at my childish behaviour, and then says, "Your hair looks fine Natasha, Chill out."

I glare at him, attempting to be serious, but I can't help the smile that breaks out onto my face, and before we know it, Brody and I are both in hysterics. Once we have sobered up, Brody starts the car, and begins the short drive to school.

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