Survivors Chapter 9/10

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I peered back around at the dorm. They had not said a thing about anyone dying. They didn't say a thing about a bloody knife. Or a froggy voice. 

Maybe it was a girl from another dorm, I thought, trying to relax myself. My heart began to race. I ran as fast as I could. When I reached dorm two, I climbed through the window and landed on the floor.

Thud.

Heads turned and store at me standing there. Thankfully, they didn't see me climb through the window. Father had a suprised look on his face. He pulled the cigarette out from his mouth.

"Sophie, you're supposed to be sleeping. Wat'cha doin' down here? I thought you were afraid of the dark."

I ignored him and scanned the faces sitting on the couches next to dad. They all had looked away and were focusing on their wine glasses with cigars falling out of their mouths. Father stood up and made his way was towards me. 

"Go to bed," he whispered in my ear. I nodded and procedded upstairs. 

All was silent on the second floor. I peeked into Caroline's room and saw her falling off the bed with drool seeping from her mouth. Drooling was normal for Caroline. I headed for my room when all of the sudden, a gunshot went off. Quickly, I covered my ears and ran for my room. 

I landed on my bed and threw the sheets over my head. After twenty minutes of calming down, I decided to get up and change into my pajamas. Hopefully, tonight would only have a few occasional gunshots and screams. The night before was terrible.

When I was done 'taking care of myself', I sat on my bed, hoping to fall asleep instantly. Instead, I gazed at the ceiling. That girl. Maybe she was from another dorm and just wanted to wash her clothes over there. Maybe I was just seeing things. But then, how would Father see the same girl? 

Thoughts began to blur in my mind as I fell asleep.

Some peace and quiet.

-

I push myself up, and then fall right back down on my stiff pillow. My head feels weighted, and it refuses to let me sit up. A concussion, of course. My mind is blur of images but one thing I do remember is running into a concrete wall bumping my forehead, and then falling down. 

I've never had one before, but I've gotten worse injuries.

After a good twenty minutes of struggling, me brain finally balances out enough to sit up. I kick my feet over the edge of the bed and land them on the ground. The cold, hard ground. A shiver surges up my spine. The hairs raise on my neck. I feel sick. All the emotions, all the sights I've seen over the past few days, they have pushed me to the breaking point. I haven't felt this way since Mother died, which was almost three years ago. Something is changing, and I can sense it.

I finally reach my dresser. It's dusty, same as yesterday. I yank a sweatshirt over my head and pull on a pair of cropped sweatpants. I want to just lie around in bed all day, but I can't. I have a job to do, and it's not part of the deal to break it. I reach for the mirror and see a reflection in it. My auburn hair is wrangled in a knot towards the side of my head, and a big blue spot is implanted right next to my eye. My hand touches it, and then pulls away. Ow. 

After I take a quick shower that is pumped by well water, I pick up my diary and write. Everything that comes to mind. I can't risk the chance or losing all my memory due to the concussion. I can't break my promise. I just can't.

Suddenly, the door bursts open. 

It's Caroline. 

She looks better then me. Her hair is let down below her shoulders, her face without a bruise, her clothes without a stain. Reminds me of the old days.

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