Hostage

12: Delirious

The second that Finneas said those words to me, I couldn't correctly function. I went delirious and started to freak out.

"You did what?" I scream at the top of my lungs, which causes Billie to come running up. She's probably wondering what the problem is. Was she a part of this, too? Was it when they had to leave me after Billie destroyed my phone? At this point, I don't know anymore. Everything seems wrong for some reason. The air seems thicker. "Why did you do that?"

"Aubrey, calm down," Finneas says. "I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't even know they were your parents in the first place!" 

"I can't calm down! You killed my parents! I don't have anybody now! I'm all alone!" I immediately run to my new bedroom and hop on the bed, crawling under the warm covers. I cover my whole body, curl up into a ball, and begin sobbing, occasionally stopping to blubber like a baby. Unfortunately for me, snot is dripping down on the sheets, which means I have to sleep in a bed full of my own snot. Yuck! But at this moment, while the snot is actually disgusting, I don't care for it.

My door opens. I don't want anybody to come in; I just want to be alone at this moment. Typically, people like me in these situations would want some sort of comfort, but I'm not one of those people. The two people who I live with now killed my parents. Sure, I still have my brother. But he'll be gone for the next four years. Which means I'm stuck with who I have at this moment: murderers.

"Aubrey?" I hear a soft voice ask. "Can I — um — can I come in, please?"

Even though I know it's Billie, I refuse to answer her. I don't want her in here. She knows how to comfort me, though. Knowing that she possibly could have been a part of the death of my parents makes me not want to like her anymore. She could be a traitor, for all I know.

"Alright, I'm coming in anyways."

Dang it!

She kneels down next to the bed and uncovers me. I bury my face in the sheets, refusing to look at her. She sighs.

"Aubrey, please sit up. I'd like to talk to you."

I lift my face up and wipe my nose on the inside of my shirt. I see a snot stain on the sheets. Disgusted, I cover up the stain and then turn to face her. She hops up on the bed next to me and pulls me on her lap. I lay there against her, not wanting to move. After a minute, I gather up the courage to ask her the one question that's bothering me.

"Were you a part of my parents' deaths?" I ask her. She doesn't say anything. "Were you in the vehicle when their car got hit?"

Billie sighs, opens her mouth to reply, but closes it quickly. She tries again, and the one word I was hoping that I wouldn't hear comes out of her mouth.

"Yes."