TWISTED ꜜ LOUIS PARTRIDGE

⟾ 16 | MISTER SCRATCHY

15 seconds—but that brings us to the current, where I have fifteen seconds left.

Ash had managed to rush the others onto their own lifeboats, where I could see them paddling away from the ship at this very moment, but I lost sight of her from where I was.

I had managed to grab a jet ski that was being transported, lowering it into the water and hot wiring it on, but now I was lingering by the side of the boat waiting for her to appear.

10 seconds—all the crew members were warned, what else is she doing?

"Ash!" I yelled, my voice nearly drowned out by the roar of the water, "where the hell are you?"

The missile was coming closer. If I didn't leave now, I'd be dead. But if I left, then she'd be dead. It was a risky decision I didn't have time to think about, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to hit the pedal and drive off. I was going to die, because of her. Fabulous. Great way to leave this world.

8 seconds—but then I saw a shadow flash across the sky, and she appeared.

With a cat.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

"Drive!" She yelled, swinging over the ledge, the animal clutched tightly underneath her arm.

More than happy to, I hit the pedal, feeling the boat start to propel itself through the choppy waves. Ash jumped off the deck of the ship, landing less-than-gracefully on the back of my ski, grabbing the railing so she didn't fall off.

5 seconds—the wind was in my hair, but I was more focused on the world around me.

"Are you out of your bloody mind?" I yelled over the sound of the boat's engine.

2 seconds—she held up the cat.

"Shut up and drive, you idiot!" She yelled.

1 second.

And as the boat behind us exploded into bits of fire and hot air, all I could think in that very second was this; my eyes stinging from the salty-ocean air, staring at a girl with a cat in her hands, while trying to drive us to safety:

I hate this girl more than anything.

"One of the crew mates told me their cat was stuck in their quarters!" She exclaimed over the noise, "I couldn't just leave him, Partridge!"

I made a sharp left, dodging a flying piece of rubble. "You nearly got us killed!"

"Me? I'm not the one who sent that missile!"

"That's not what I meant!"

"I don't care!" She yelled back, "Mister Scratchy was worth it!"

"Mister Scratchy?" I screamed, nearly cracking my voice, "you've got to be—no, you know what? Nevermind!"

She was insufferable, untamable, too rash and reckless, and she was getting on my nerves. Not just one, mind you, she was getting on all of my nerves. I was one straw away from throwing myself off the jet ski and into the ocean to drown. We nearly died, because she wanted to save an ugly cat who didn't even belong to us.

Turning back to the sea in front of us, I focused on directing us towards the beach a few miles away. A few minutes into the drive, I realized it had become oddly silent—no sarcastic remarks or insults.

And I was about to turn around to see what Ash was doing, when I felt something furry latch onto my shoulder, and I noticed two cat paws being held up onto my shirt. Ash was holding the cat. She was holding the cat. Like a backpack.

"Hewo," she said, her voice squeaky and soft, "I'm Mister Scratchy, and I demand an apology."

And now she was pretending to be the cat.

I frowned. "For what?"

"For saying I wasn't worth saving," she said (as the cat).

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"I was not," I snapped.

Turning around all the way, I was about to defend myself again, but then I caught sight of the two of them staring straight at me. Both of their eyes were watery and wide like saucers, and they had a distinct pout—they almost looked like duplicates of each other.

If I wasn't trying to drive the boat, I might have stood there frozen in complete confusion.

"Oh," I said, suddenly filled with a strange feeling, "very well then, I apologize for thinking you weren't worth it."

Ash beamed. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"It was gruesome."

The girl let out a happy grin, hugging the ginger cat closer to her chest and plopping down on the thin bench beside her. It was a strange sight. Not the cat, nor the girl, but seeing her happy. I don't think I've ever seen her this happy. Not since that day in the trailer park, right before I—

No, I don't want to think about it.

That was a mistake.

I know that now.

And all I should be focused on is making sure we get to Barbados quickly, so we can save London and get this all over with. I won't have to put up with her after this. 

_

Sorry for the wait! I was not feeling the greatest mentally, so I had to separate myself from social media for a few days. Thank you for all the love <3 x