Scream

Makai Keanu

I got tired of rehearsing my voicemail. It hurt to repeat it over and over. It hurt to listen to the messages my parents and friends would leave. They're heartbroken. I heard it in their cracked voices, they're stifled and unstifled cries...I ended up turning my phone off. I can only pray that Della heard the address... 

I can't really see my surroundings. It's dank and damp, and I think I'm somewhere below ground. Above, weight shifting causes dust from floorboards or whatever to shower down on my head. I hear echoes of words of orders but I can't grasp the meaning. I haven't eaten or had anything to drink in the past...I don't know how long. 

I was taken into the police car. The deputy turned on the AC, but some sort of gas emanated instead from the vents. My vision blurred and I passed out. Next thing I know, I come to – bound at the wrists and ankles, laying on the ground. 

A man came from upstairs. He bent over me and rested his foot on my chest. I remember he was surrounded by a halo of black, wavy hair. "Makai Keanu," he hummed, amber eyes bright with excitement. I recognize him as the deputy from the party who took me in for "questioning." 

 The man had gone back upstairs to retrieve an IV bag of saline and just a lot of empty bags. "Try not to fight it," he instructed, voice naturally raspy. "But if you do, it makes it all the more fun."

My breathing increased and my heart rate spiked. The deputy grabbed me by my wrist bondage and shoved me in a chair. "I've just got one question for you, Keanu." The deputy stabbed me through my arm with an enormous needle connected to a tube. Red fluid runs through the tube and into an empty IV bag as the saline connects to my other arm. "Wow, you're boring. You seemed so much more fun at the party...hey, are you even listening to me?"

I meet his eyes, unable to find my voice in all the confusion and pain with these gigantic needles in my veins – pain shooting up my arms. 

 "I'll take that as a yes. You're going to feel dizzy. That's normal when you lose a mass amount of blood. Anyways, back to my one question," the deputy tells me. There's a wild spark in his eyes. One that doesn't just come from enjoyment, but from a twisted, psychological mess.

I meet his eyes. His eagerness and twisted smirk making me something more than horrified. 

 The world starts spinning but I focus on the deputy's yellowy eyes. 

 "What?" I manage, voice hoarse from nerves and disuse. 

 "What time does school end?" 

 And with my fingers, I told him the time