My Dead Best Friend |✔

Prologue

        Have you ever wanted something so badly and pushed so hard to get it but you just weren't strong enough to continue?

        Maybe you just gave up?

        Perhaps you may have questioned yourself once or twice if the task was necessary, or if the consequences really were that devastating if you decided to discontinue.

        And perhaps you felt that if those consequences were to come true, maybe you wouldn't care. The fact that you're even questioning your efforts means you've already failed - right?

        At least - that's what Dylan felt.

        Weak.

        She always liked the blissfulness that darkness brought her. She used to love how it made her forget everything, yet let her think over her thoughts and how it was seemingly endless; tumbling on forever and ever.

        But not this darkness. She could feel the roughness of the car tyres rumbling over the road, jostling her all over. The blackness was invading her ears and nose and smothering her entire body. Her skin was suffocating and was tender to every touch, sore from being smashed and thrown around inside of this dreaded trunk.

        Had she been knocked unconscious? She questioned herself, wondering why her head felt the way it had.The pain resonated through her skull like an echo. Constant beatings of her head like a child being punished.

        Was she being punished?

        It's yes, isn't it? Her punishment. She deserves this. She deserves to be kidnapped and stuffed in this small trunk. She deserves to die.

        Doesn't she?

        The carpeted surface below her violently shook, dreadfully jerking her throbbing body to the side. She heard the screeching of tyres and the oh so unbearable sound of shattering glass. Later, came a faint buzz - vibration of a cell phone maybe?

        The urge to go to sleep was too much. Her face twisted in agony and a song emerged from the chaos as if signalling her to be alert.

        Everybody gets high sometimes you know. What else can we do when we're feeling low? So take a deep breath and let it- "Sup?"

        Although the slight ringing from her left ear made her second guess what she heard was correct, shivers were sent up her arm as she listened intently; she tried to hold her breath, worried that her breathing may get noticed and endanger her.

        "Ha, yeah we got her in the trunk."

        "Hm? We're about to bend the corner now."

         Her senses were put to the test as she could barely make out the other voice. It sounded like indistinct panic, their words blended together.

        "Relaaax. Jeez, I've got this under control."

        ...

        "The kid?... umm..."

        "Yeah, whatever just handle it. Bye, I'm almost there."

        She urged to hear more but no more words were spoken and panic began to settle within her.

        She smelt the foul scent of her frantic pants, as if she were a fish out of the water, slowly nearing closer to death with each passing moment. It was drastically warm and as if proving her point, sweat ran down her flushed cheeks in an effort to cool her. A liquefied red substance was spat as she coughed and coughed, thinking that there was a knot in her stomach which, unfortunately, grew tighter.

        With her heart racing a mile per minute, she tried to move but was conflicted with the tightly tied rope around her wrists and ankles; she ended up thrashing her body against the rough walls of the trunk once more. She blew away her matted brown bangs that threatened to make way into her hazel eyes - which she widened in fear. She gave a startled gasp as the car she was in, came to a sudden stop.

        And soon, everything went silent, everything was as still as can be. Well, everything except for her heaving chest and uncontrollable tears.

        That's when she heard the voice. That's when the moment of silence was broken, along with her life which was soon to be shattered. That's when she had the most dreadful thought.

        If anyone's looking for her, they won't find her - alive at least.

        She regretted everything. 

        Anger boiled within her. She felt frustrated and abundantly hopeless.

        They stuffed her away as if she was nothing.

        Perhaps she was.

        Though she was a fighter, she was also a bird with a broken wing. She couldn't soar anymore. Not even if she wanted to.  

        The darkness has a sick way to it. A certain way of making you think, a certain way of bringing out your deepest fears. 

        "I'm going to enjoy this."

        "I'm going to enjoy this so freaking much."

        It was like broken glass. The voice. It pierced the silence as if slicing delicate skin. So extremely vivid and eerie.

        ...

        "I know that you're awake, Dylan... I know that you can hear my voice."

        She let out a choked sob, immediately wishing she hadn't. Biting her lip to the point where she almost drew blood, she dared not to say a word. Not after all that had happened.

        Laughter.

        Yes, in the uncanny silence, broke laughter. It sent shivers down her aching spine and raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. If only she'd been more careful, then none of this would've happened.

        "Trust me, I'm going to be the last thing you ever hear again."