Rewritten

Prologue

1 year later

It seems almost surreal to me that I'm standing in a nightclub. If the situation weren't so dire, I might have even attempted to enjoy it -after all, how many seventeen year olds get to pretend they're adults and  party on a daily basis? But I'm not here for that. I scan the dance floor, frantic. I know she has to be here. We came together and -

   "Athena!" A girl in a dress that just barely skims her butt appears beside me. She's clearly drunk, and the dress is starting to ride up. I'd almost find it amusing in another situation. "Where the hell have you been? They're about to sing happy birthday and -"

   "Have you seen Art?" I interrupt. I have no idea whose birthday it is and I really don't care. "Where is she?"

   The girl -I think her name is Melanie -blinks slowly, clearly trying to clear her alcohol muddled brain. The stench of it here is awful, and I wonder why I ever wanted to go to a club in the first place. "You mean Artemis? She's fine." A wink. "Real fine. The guy she's with is freaking hot! If only I had her looks..." Melanie drifts off. "Anyway, she doesn't matter right now. Here." She shoves what looks like a cocktail in my hand and grabs my arm. "Come on! You're missing the party! Everyone's in the main room. No idea how you got into eighties." I let her pull me away, confused. Clubs have rooms?

   Ten minutes later, I know what she's talking about. I also hate clubs. We're in the main room at this point, which is the room playing whatever happens to be topping the mainstream charts, but there's also the rock music room, the 80s room, the disco room... Artemis could be in any of them. I make an excuse to go to the bathroom and then search, frantic. If any member of the group I came with -a mix of mine and Art's (mainly Art's) friends from university ask what I'm doing, I'll feign drunkenness. It can't be hard with the amount of alcohol around here.

   I almost give up when I get back to the main room. I decide to stay there because all the other rooms lead into it, and I figure that Art will probably drift through at some point. I sit on an empty stool and order a coke, putting the cocktail on the bar. I have no intention of drinking it.

   "Excuse me, but are you okay?" 

   I jump, startled. The voice is male, and has come from beside me. It's a guy not much older than me. He's sitting in the stool next to mine, and is looking at me with an expression of such concern, I wonder if I should know him. There's no way I possibly could have- I'm sure a guy this hot would have registered. I tear my eyes away from his face. He's a distraction I really don't need right now. Interesting, though, that I've never seen him before.

   "I'm fine," I lie, doing my best to ignore him. I pointedly scan the room. Maybe if he thinks I'm a rude bitch he'll stop talking to me so I can act like he's not there. How can I even get distracted over such a thing? Especially when Art-

   "You don't seem fine."

   Damn him.

   I sigh, keeping my eyes off his face as I speak. "I said, I'm fine thanks." I grab my drink and move to leave. And, naturally, that's when she glides into the room.

   She's in a pale blue dress that perfectly matches her eyes, and her long blonde hair hangs in perfect waves around her face. Unlike some of the people here, she's not drunk off her head, and her make-up is still perfect, but that's not surprising. Art never looks anything less than perfect. Even with the dress clinging to her curves, somehow she still looks angelic. It's not just me that notices her- every guy in the room, including the one beside me, turns to stare at her as she comes in.

   Shame she already has a guy with her.

   I can't see his face because he's leaning down to say something into her ear, but Art smiles at whatever he's saying, then searches the room. Spotting me at the bar, she sees the guy by me and winks, says a few words to our group so they know she's alive...

   ...and promptly vanishes into one of the other rooms with the guy I don't recognise.

   Shit.

   Before I know it, I'm out of my chair and following her. It's going to happen soon, I know it. I have to stop it, stop her, before it's too late. But I don't know which room she's vanished into. This club is a maze, and I hate it.

   "I think she went disco. Most people go there when they want to talk because it's less crowded."

   I jump again. The guy has followed me. I'd question why if I wasn't on the verge of a full blown panic attack. "Thanks!"

   I'm flat out running now. Security staff, noticing my behaviour, start moving toward me, but there's no use. Just as they reach me, finally in the disco room, there's a bang. Screams.

   Silence.

   Security ignore me when they see a crowd standing in the middle of the dance floor. People start approaching from other rooms, wanting to see what the fuss is about. The problem is, I know what the fuss is about. I've been here before.

   I push to the front of the crowds, scared to reach the horror I know I'll see. The horror I know is coming. The horror that means I've failed, again.

   Art lies on the alcohol soaked floor, the blood spreading through her dress making her look like some fallen superhero. Even dying, she looks somehow perfect, her arms and legs bent into some strangely beautiful ballerina pose. I yell bloody murder about how she's my sister, and they let me pass.

   "Ena?"

   Normally I'd scowl at the nickname because I've always hated my name being shortened, but right now I don't care, not when the life is bleeding out of her. "I'm here, Art," I tell her as I cling to her hand -as if, by holding her tight enough, I can stop her from leaving. "It's okay. It's going to be okay." I'm lying, and we both know it. "It's okay."

   Art looks at me, smiles. And it's that expression that remains on her face when her hand goes limp, when the paramedics rush in, their services unneeded. When the scene starts to blur from the onset of my tears.

   I have one year to stop my sister from attending a club, meeting a handsome stranger, and getting shot. One year to rewrite everything.

   Because otherwise in one year, my sister will die.

______

Dedicated to Emiranda9 for her awesome cover, which I'll put up if she'll let me! It made me think of a murder mystery, which is why I thought it fit here.