That Night √

53» That Voice

Grace's POV
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I sat down on the floor, against the foot of my bed, in front of the long wall mirror. I could feel the water droplets dripping down my freshly showered hair, soaking the back of my dark blue sweater.

It was all quiet and empty, almost evening by now. I was kind of glad when I pulled up my knees against my chest and saw Frost running into my room, stopping in front of me and waggling his white furred tail.

Stroking his ears with one hand, I picked up my discarded blue jeans from my bed. Frost pulled away from me and tried getting up on my bed. Meanwhile I pulled the jeans closer towards me and stuffed my hand inside the back pocket.

I couldn't help but notice how it smelled like mud and leaves and blood, and at that moment I really wished I had washed it beforehand.

I took out the crumbled piece of paper and pushed away the jeans. I didn't want to think about that night. I didn't want to think about Fraser, even though it had just been few days since that incident happened.

Like I had expected, things dulled down even further after that whole incident. Almost everyone knew that Fraser was killed. Even if I tried to convince myself otherwise, the flashes of those black petals and the blood around him would stop me. Every single person at that party saw that, at least until the ambulance arrived. Still, no one knew who did it.

No one except Luca and I. And we both hadn't exactly told the real truth when we had been brought in for questioning by the officers, along with the others that were present at that after-match party.

Even though Alice deserved to know the things I knew behind Fraser's death, I hadn't talked to her either. She hadn't exactly reacted properly and I didn't want to scare her even further. She wasn't there at school today and I pretty much hadn't seen her for the entire weekend.

Amidst the whole chaos surrounding Fraser's death, Alice's parents had arranged a small funeral for him. I could've seen Alice there but I didn't go. I hadn't wanted to. I hated funerals and I hated knowing that someone was gone forever.

I had thousands of questions circling my head each night after that incident. I barely slept and all I could think about was the blood surrounding Fraser's body.

Frost's bark broke me out of my thoughts as he managed to finally roll over my bed. I looked back at the paper and opened it slowly, trying to smooth it out. I wasn't surprised to see most of the words smudged with something that looked like blood to me. Or maybe it was dirt and I was just being paranoid.

The words written on the paper looked rushed, the sloppy handwriting filling almost the entire page.

Before I could've started reading those words, my eyes flickered away from the page, not wanting to read it. I closed my eyes shut and pulled my knees back towards my chest. I could feel something constricting in my chest, a feeling that seemed horrible at that moment.

A small thud made me jerk up and open my eyes only to see that Frost had somehow managed to drop one of my books, piled up on my bed, down on the floor. Once again, I was reminded to get a grip on myself. I was starting to freak out over the tiniest things, noises that weren't even that loud.

Burner was out there somewhere.

His men and Burner himself would get to me sooner or later and that thought was the mere reason why I was starting to get paranoid on the littlest things.

"It's fine." I murmured to myself, letting my heart slow down to its normal pace.

This time, I held onto my breath and looked back at the paper, at the words that I was sure were written by Fraser himself.