Becoming Anne Again

Chapter Fifty-Five

A/N So why, do you ask, am I posting this chapter so early? Is it because I should be doing other things and I'm stressed out about tests and this is a nice distraction? Yeah, that's possible. I also like hearing your comments, and this chapter is shorter anyway. Hopefully, you enjoy this early release! I will still be releasing another chapter on Friday as per usual.

Diana knew the school like the back of her hand, yet somehow, when she heard the first scream, it was like she was in a labyrinth she couldn't solve. It was like all those nightmares she got to wake up from—it felt like her legs were made of lead, and her thoughts were hopelessly entangled. She decided maybe being a spy sucked.

As it turned out, Anne being in her life changed her forever, and Diana had a long road of adventure and thrills in front of her—some good, some bad. But Diana would never forgot that first time she truly felt afraid.

She used to be afraid of the dark, when she was little, like most little kids are. She refused to sleep without a night light until she was ten years old. She also believed there were wolves hiding under her bed, and her little heart would be beating out of its chest every night when she heard the softest noise. This was different. This was not her heart beating fast, this was her heart failing to beat. This was drowning in her own fear, her lungs constricting in on her. The hallways were closing in, and she felt like her spirit was being ripped from her, astral projected to some other plane because this couldn't be happening.

Her hands were bright red from tugging on door handles so hard it was as if she was trying to rip them off. The sounds seemed to echo on the halls, so she had no idea where they were coming from. It was a cacophony of noise that she couldn't quite decipher, her world seeming to blur before her and crash down around her all the same time.

Breathe. It was a hard task when she was continuously pushing herself to run faster, but she had to think.

She was sure she was on the right side of the school. Or at least, she thought she was sure, but uncertainty was eating at her. This was Anne. She was going to save Anne. She tried to let that thought drive her forward, as she passed the classrooms. She couldn't quite think in the same way as Anne, but she forced herself to think the best way she could. Ms. Kelly—extremely meticulous. Mr. Richardson—too open. Think, think, think...

Looking back, she didn't remember how she got in front of Mr. Webster's classroom. She didn't remember consciously thinking to go there, or even to stop. The only clear memory she had was Prissy's wailing cries, and the sight of Mr. Phillips' hands around Anne's neck from the open doorway, and the other hand slicing long lines into Anne's arms.

"Anne!" She screamed. Mr. Phillips head jerked up so fast she could hear the crink, and he cried out as his head fell in his hands.

Anne didn't get up.

"You monster!" Diana screamed, even as she dove to Anne, her hands fluttering over Anne. Didn't she learn how to check for a pulse, some time? In a babysitting course she had taken over the summer.

"You shouldn't be here!" Mr. Phillips yelled, forcing himself to move forward, even as he wailed in pain.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed right back. "It's too late! The cops are coming!"

Mr. Phillips face turned ashen white, and Diana could see out of the corner of her eye the sight Prissy retching over the floor. Diana couldn't pay attention to that though, she had to press two fingers to Anne's neck—or her wrist—or both—it was all blurring together.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Mr. Phillips roared, and impulsively Diana threw herself over the seemingly lifeless Anne, sobs wracking her body. "It's not—it's not my fault! That bitch was never supposed to be here!"

Diana was crying so hard she could barely breathe, let alone speak. But there were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to beat him. She wanted to tell him never to call Anne that, the girl who may as well have been an angel to Diana. She wanted to watch him die, slowly, horribly, her thoughts spiraling into a place that no eighth grader should ever go.

Mr. Phillips collapsed at the side of the classroom, his hands covering his mouth as if trying not to puke. Prissy was shaking so hard that she fell on her knees, her cries almost rivalling Diana's. Almost.

"Anne! Anne!" Diana cried, her hands cradling Anne's face. "Anne, come back to me! You can't leave me! Anne, I love you!"

CPR. In her hysteria, she had completely forgotten everything she was supposed to do, and desperately, she propped Anne's mouth open, clumsily breathing into her. Then chest compressions. She was terrified to hurt Anne, and she was terrified that she would never see the rise and fall of Anne's chest again. All these thoughts ran through her as she pushed on Anne's chest. "How long!" She screamed at Prissy. "How long am I supposed to do this!"

"I—I don't know," Prissy stammered, even as she started crawling forward, each movement shaky and unsure.

Diana didn't know how long the sirens had been within hearing distance when she finally registered them. She couldn't stop though, she needed this to work, was that Anne's chest moving up and down, oh please God, make that be Anne breathing—

While the residents of Cape Cod held some deep ties forged by their differences set by vacationers, it was still not a small town. So when the 911 operator heard Diana's desperate voice, she didn't know exactly how dire the situation was. Thus, the two officers who responded believed they were walking into a prank call, or at worst, a hysterical kid who was overreacting. It didn't help that Diana had been panicking, her words stilted when she made the call when she heard the first scream. All the operator could determine was that "something bad is happening" "she's screaming" "he's going to hurt her." But they performed their due diligence, and made their way to the middle school with exigence.

Prissy seemed to come to her senses just in time, even as Diana was lost in Anne, and she forced herself to her feet when the men yelled out "Police!"

"Over here!" she yelled, limping to the door, clutching the door frame. "Mr. Webster's room!"

"Mr. Webster's room" held no significance to the officers, but they could follow a voice.

What they found was worse than they could have ever imagined.

They were greeted by a girl with blood spotting the top of their thighs, her hair mussed, her skin hot. Inside, a vile teacher, and the centerpiece—a girl desperately trying to revive her best friend, blood spilling around both of them, the girl's wails a sound so ghoulish they would haunt the officer's nightmares for years to come.

Officer Dover immediately rushed to Anne's side, brushing Diana aside to properly apply compressions. His partner was forcing Mr. Phillips to his feet, patting him down, and Diana could hear him being read his rights, but God, he didn't deserve any rights—

They radioed for an ambulance. Diana heard Officer Dover yell out, "I've got a pulse!" But she never saw the color return to Anne's cheeks.

All she could do was scream and cry and beg Anne to come back to her.

Anne was already being loaded into an ambulance when the police got a hold of Mr. and Mrs. Cuthbert, and Diana refused to leave Anne's side, refused to let go of Anne's hand. Mr. Barry had to forcibly hold her back when they got to the hospital, and she felt like she was being ripped from Anne when the double doors swung shut to the ICU.

A/N Thank you, my loves, for sticking with me. As always, don't forget to comment what you think, and vote if you liked this chapter! I love you all! Keep taking care of yourselves!