Trapped

Trapped Part 3

Hey guys! Sorry it took me longer than a week to upload, this week I have been slammed with midterms and homework since it's after break (passed Goemetry with an A :)). Anyways, I just want to thank my readers so much for supporting me, you guys are the best, and I hope you like this chapter/part.

This chapter/part (I really can't make up my mind lol) is dedicated to shayay for being one of the best besties a gal can have, being my editor and number one fan, and being an awesome sauce chic who is super fun to hang out with. I love you girlie <3

Anyways, comment, vote and fan! Tell me what you think! Sorry if it's short!

-Kira

Dylan and I push through the swarm of people, all swarming to see what the fuss is about. The music is shut off, and only the excited and nervous chatter of people fill the house.  We finally make it to the center of attention. Ari’s collapsed on a wooden round table, with her head and limbs hanging off the edges. She moans something incomprehensible and I rush towards her, broken shot glasses crunching beneath my feet.  I reach Ari and try to lift her off the table, but she’s basically a dead weight. Dylan comes over and helps me drag her off the table and supports her so she can stand up straight. I grab her face and say, “Ari, are you alright?” She mumbles something incoherent but her breath smells like liquor, giving me all the answer I need.

                I turn on my heels and angrily walk up to the idiot college guy holding the bottle of Vodka. He looks like your typical Frat boy, and his name is probably Brad or some other name that would make him seem like even more of a prick. Beside him is a typical blond bimbo, resembling the one that Jason cheated on me with, making me more angry, and a couple of other idiotic and burnout looking kids.   “What the hell happened?” I demand, practically snarling at them.

                They guy who I dubbed as Brad shifts from foot to foot, looking nervously at the others.

                “If someone doesn’t tell me what the hell happened to my sister, I’m gonna call the cops,” I threaten. Their eyes widen and everyone gasps, probably ready to make a run for the door.

                “It wasn’t our fault!” the bimbo exclaims.

                “Yeah, it totally wasn’t, she just went crazy!” Some burn-out added, backing up bimbo’s story.

                “Yeah, she had a couple of shots and got sort of tipsy and crazy!”

                “Yeah, she got up on the table and started to dance and strip, which wasn’t a bad sight to see, actually-“

                “And then she just slipped and fell, I swear!” finishes the bimbo, glaring at the idiot who mentioned my sister stripping.

                I turn towards “Brad” and glare at him. “My sister wasn’t having shots of Vodka, was she?” He opens and closes his mouth nervously, not sure of how to answer. “Don’t lie to me, Brad,” I say. Even though I’m short, I can be pretty damn frightening when I want to be.

                He looks perplexed at me calling him Brad, but answers, “Yes, I gave her Vodka, but I didn’t know go wild!”

                “You gave Vodka to a nineteen year old? How stupid are you?!” I scream at him.

                “I didn’t know she was nineteen! To be honest, she looks pretty good for nineteen…” he trails off. I narrow my eyes at him and he swallows nervously.