Scream 4

Chapter 31

Maybe you had drunk a bit too much last night. You didn't know why they called alcohol 'liquid courage'; you certainly hadn't felt courageous when you got busted doing something you weren't supposed to do, like a kid intending to take a cookie from the cookie jar and then their parents suddenly showing up like they could magically sense your misdoings.

You very reluctantly opened your eyes a crack, and once the light no longer seemed to be sending knives straight into your brain, you were relieved to be able to make out the familiar, if blurry, shape of your desk, closet, mini fridge and the rest of the appliances inside your bedroom.

You groaned, turning over to the side of the bed. Empty except for an impression in the pillow from where a head had been. But said head was missing.

Still, the fuzziness in your head made registering this slow. Your attempt to get out of the bed with a semblance of grace failed completely, and you soon found yourself kissing the floorboards.

You weren't even alarted when a lean arm hooked under your waist and pulled you back on your feet in one go. You blinked, murmured a "thanks" coated in thick sleep, and then went on your way, blissfully unaware.

Shuffling towards the bathroom, you made it there in one piece, just in time before throwing up in the toilet. You really, really swore you didn't have that much to drink yesterday.

Yesterday.

Yesterday?

You thought hard, and began to piece together the night's events. Oh, right. You went over to Jed's house.

Jed...

Oh. God.

After emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, you stayed still for a couple of minutes, staring and thinking about...

The pillow.

The arm.

Your mouth fell agape. You hadn't taken him back home with you, had you? Even with alcohol, you would have remembered it if you did. Well, there were other things you remembered but...

You shook your head, not wanting to recall you acting like a total skank. That could wait. What couldn't wait was finding out who had been sleeping next to you. Emma had the guest room to sleep in so that ruled her out.

One blink... Two blinks, aaand....

And then panic settled in. You frantically looked around yourself, searching for something to arm yourself with. Toothpaste wasn't going to do you much good and neither was a toilet plunger. A broomstick on the other hand... Yes, a broomstick would do.

Bravely, or foolishly, you aimed your narrowed eyes at the bedroom straight ahead of you, putting one foot forward, then another, all the while holding the broom like you were wielding a baseball bat.

When you came to stand over the bed, the first thing you focused on was the impression in the pillow and, upon closer inspection, the mattress. You reached out with your hand, brushing your fingers against the soft, fleecy cover of the mattress on the side you hadn't slept on.

It was still warm.

Oh crap. Oh crap—

One moment you were standing up with a broomstick in hand, and the next it tumbled to the floor when you were pushed down onto the blanket with a startled yelp flying past your lips.

Your immediate reaction was to scream your soul out for help, but a hand clasping over your mouth muffled any noise of protest your lungs produced. Kicking your legs ended just as pathetically when your ambusher forced them against the side of the bed, keeping you trapped.