Before My Eyes

Chapter 13

Oh great, now it's raining. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain and find it rather calming, but it just seems a little cliche. Like in the movies when something sad happens it's always raining.

Plus, it's nice to have a little rain here to cool me down as California has been pretty hot since I've been here. I'm not exactly used to it as I have been in the UK for... years where it pretty much always rains and if it's not raining, it's cold even when the sun is out.

I've been running for a few minutes now and am pretty tired. I've hardly had any exercise since I got here as we just drove everywhere.

I let my legs give up as I dropped down on my knees and moved backwards so I was sitting on the floor, my bag between my legs. I threw my hood up. I kinda wish I brought a coat, but it's only a little bit of rain.

Yeah... just think about the rain. Don't think back, Kayla. Just the rain. How peaceful it is and- ...

- - - - -

"Don't die on me, please... please, don't die on me." My voice cracked and I let out sobs as Melanie lay in my arms, her head on my lap.

I checked her pulse on her wrist and then on her neck. It was getting slower by the minute. I quickly threw my hoodie off and wrapped it around her. I rocked her back and forth in my lap, repeating the same thing over and over again, "Don't die on me, Mel. Please, please don't die."

Melanie's mum ran into the room and stared down at us. Horror struck her face as she saw Melanie's now dead body in my arms as I cradled her. Her mum moved her hand up to her face as she let out a shaky breath.

"Is... is she..?" I knew what she was trying to say, we both didn't want it to be true. I nodded my head, my tears running down where the ones before them were. A couple odd tears dripped onto Melanie's face.

I soon got sent home and that's where the night got worse than ever.

Tears were still streaming down my face, but they were the last few as the rest dried. My breath was shaky and so were my hands as I reached to open the front door. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened as I twisted the door handle and slowly pushed open the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. I shut the door behind me and that's when it really happened. I should have never gone back.

I just want to scream at my 12-year-old self as I relive this memory. Watching it all unfold. That poor girl doesn't know what's coming. Not the usual punches and kicks. It all went too far, way too far.

I see Carla at the stairs holding a sharp kitchen knife, one of the larger knives. I felt small as I backed away into the door, it only taking a step as I had barely entered the house.

She let out a manic laugh as she pointed the knife at me, "This is what you get for giving me hell! You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me! You ruined my life!" Carla shouted towards me. She put emphasis on the words 'ruined' and 'ever'.

I could tell she was angry, maybe even a few drinks in. I can't tell anymore as this place always has the stench of alcohol. Just when you think the smell is leaving, it hits you back ten times harder.

I went to move away from the door and behind the sofa so there was some distance between us, but someone tackled me to the ground, pinning my legs down. John. Someone else slid over to us on the floor, appearing just above my face as he knelt down. He held a wicked grin on his face as he pinned my wrists on either side of me.

I struggled against their grip, trying to get free. I tried screaming for help as Carla got closer, but John covered my mouth with his dirty, disgusting hand, using his knees to pin my legs down instead.