𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒚 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 | 𝘼 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ３

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥
𝟏:𝟐𝟕 𝐩𝐦

Laura

   Mrs. Snyder elevated the tip of my nose with her gloved fingertip and examined the interior of my nostrils with her pen light. When she was done, she backed away and placed her pen light back in her pocket. Turning around, she picked up a folded of paper off of her desk and held it out to me. "Here, sniff this."

    I took it from her, and as I brought it up to my nostrils, I gagged upon smelling it. I recoiled, turning my head away. "What kind of perfume sample is this? It smells like... Nevermind, I rather not think about it."

    The school nurse chuckled at my reaction. "At least your sense of smell is still intact, Laura."

    Without hesitation, I threw away the piece of paper into a nearby trash can. "Well, there are many downsides that come with having a strong sense of smell."

    Mrs. Snyder tilted my head to the side, examining the newly formed bruises on my nose and left cheek. "Can you inhale through your nose for me?" I complied and breathed in through my nostrils. "Now exhale." I breathed out as instructed. "Any difficulty breathing?"

    I shook my head. "No, none at all."

    "Good." She pulled off her latex gloves and tossed them into the trash can.

    Piers leaned his shoulder against the doorway, waiting patiently. "What's the prognosis?"

    Mrs. Snyder glanced over at him. "As far as I can tell, her nose isn't broken. The only thing she'll have is nasty bruising on her right cheek for a couple weeks. Nothing too serious."

    I uncrossed my legs, swinging them back and forth. "Does this mean I'm free to go now?"

    She shifted her gaze back to me. "Yes, Laura. You can go now."

    I eagerly hopped off the examination table as the school nurse walked over and sat down at her desk. "Thanks again, Mrs. Snyder."

    The elder woman glanced over in my direction and smiled. "Anytime, missy. Take care now." She turned back to her computer to resume her work, and I made my way over towards the doorway.

    Piers handed me back my belongings as the two of us exited the nurse's office. Before we could part ways again, my fingers instinctively latched onto the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. "You okay?"

    "Yeah, I—I'm fine." Feeling embarrassed, I let go of his shirt. "Can I talk to you please? If you have some time to spare?"

    He nodded his head. "Yeah, of course."

    I wandered down the hallway and walked inside one of the empty classrooms. Once I shut the door behind him, I set my backpack down on the ground beside the closest desk and sat down. After placing my textbook back inside my bag, I rested my hands on top of the desk, intertwining my fingers together.

    Piers leaned against the teacher's desk situated in front of the classroom, his hazel eyes meeting mine. "What did you wanna talk about?"

    I twiddled my thumbs. "This." I gestured towards the bruise on my cheek. "Be honest with me. It's pretty bad, isn't it?"

    His jaw briefly clenched, and after a long period of silence, he answered with a comforting tone. "It isn't as bad as you think, Laura. It's hardly even noticeable."

    Digging around in my backpack, I took out a pocket mirror. I opened it and held it out in front of me, inspecting the extent of my injury. A nasty contusion began to take shape on my right cheek, blemishing my pale skin with a myriad of different colors. In short, my cheek was turning into a literal paint palette. Even the droplets of dried blood on my shirt and jacket added a couple hues to complement it. My fingertip grazed the surface of the bruise, sending tiny jolts of pain all throughout my cheek.

    I look like shit.

    I pulled out my concealer out of my bag, applying the cosmetic all over my left cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, Piers stood to his full height and paced around the classroom. From time to time, he would halt in place, and every time his eyes wandered over in my direction. After letting his gaze linger on me for no more than a minute, he would resume pacing once again. Whatever was on his mind, it couldn't have been good.

    He leaned against a nearby desk, his back facing me. His head was hung low; his clenched fists were gripping the edge of the desk. His knuckles were practically porcelain white, his veins protruding visibly from the beneath the skin of his hands. Without warning, Piers slammed his fists on top of the desk in outrage. I remained seated, twisting the cap back on the concealer before putting it away. He muttered a few words under his breath, and from the sound of it, I wouldn't have been surprised if they were swear words.

    "Damn it, Laura." Piers turned around, his hazel eyes landing on me. "How long?"

    I started to blend in the concealer using my fingertip. "How long what?"

    He crossed his arms over his chest. "You know exactly what I mean."

    I finished rubbing in the concealer and shoved my mirror into my backpack. "Ever since the school year started."

   Piers uncrossed his arms, the corners of his mouth quirking down. "Why didn't you tell anyone about this!? You and I are both well aware that this kind of harassment is not okay!"

    You really think I don't know that? You have no idea how much I wanted to put those assholes in their place...but I can't, and I can't have you or anyone else finding out why.

    "I know Piers." I abruptly stood up, picking my backpack off the ground and hauling it over my shoulder. "Whether you believe me or not, it's more complicated than it sounds. I appreciate what you and your team did back there, I really do, but this is my fight. Not yours—" The gentle knocking of the classroom door cut me off.

    I shifted my gaze over towards the door. "Come in!" Mr. Redfield's electric, blue eyes met mine as he opened the door, entering the classroom. "Am I interrupting something?"

    Perfect timing!

    A smile decorated my lips. "No, not at all sir." To be frank, I didn't want to argue with Piers. As hotheaded as he already was, I didn't want him to be more worried about me than he should be. Even if it meant keeping him at arm's length.

    Mr. Redfield's eyes wandered towards the bruise on my cheek, barely hidden beneath a layer of concealer. His features softened a bit. "Are you alright?"

    "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's just a bruise, nothing more," I replied. "It'll take some time for it to heal, so I guess I'm stuck with it until then." My grip tightened around the backpack strap. "How did your conversation with the principal go?"

    He smiled. "It was a bit heated, I'll admit that. More importantly, I was able to smooth things over with him. Everyone that was involved in that little stunt was sent home with their parents and suspended for the next two weeks. So, they won't be bothering you or anyone else anymore."

    "Let's hope that you're right," I thought aloud, a lack of optimism evident in my tone.

    His eyes widened ever so slightly. Mr. Redfield remained quiet for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Silence engulfed the classroom within a matter of seconds, and came to an end just as quickly when he changed the topic.

    "If you don't mind me asking, how do you and Piers know each other?"

    Piers looked at me, offering a small nod of his head as we directed our gaze back to Mr. Redfield. "He's a family friend of mine," I answered. "Our families are close. They've known each other for a very long time. For three generations in fact."

    Mr. Redfield walked forward, approaching me. "Forgive me, I haven't had the chance to properly introduce myself." He held out his calloused hand. "I'm Chris Redfield."

    "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Redfield." I raised my free hand, shaking his in a courtly manner. "I'm Laura Rose. Thanks for your help back there."

    "The pleasure's all mine, Laura." He let go of my hand. "And please, there's no need to be so formal. It makes me feel older than I already am. Just call me Chris."

    "Okay, Chris. I do have a question for you though. Are actually the legendary Christopher Redfield? As in Piers' captain?" I inquired.

    Chris chuckled, his unwavering gaze remaining glued on me. "Guilty as charged."

    I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! I fucking knew it! Out of everyone in the gym, Chris Redfield actually stood up to Pussy Cat and her gang of mangy mutts for me. So it is true, he does have a heart of gold and the courage of an honorable soldier.

    "Aw...so you're the one Piers told me so much about. The ever so self-sacrificing captain that he can't help but look up to for his caring nature and heroic, selfless feats on the battlefield." I glanced over in Piers' direction, noticing the small blush that creeped onto his cheeks as he silently glared at me.

    Like every teenage girl my age, one of the very few traits I shared with them was the art of teasing. I wasn't intending to offend him, nor was I homophobic in any way. There was nothing wrong with Piers being bisexual. Period. However, how could I resist the opportunity to embarrass him in front of his former crush?

    Chris let out an amused chuckle, his eyes never leaving mine. "That's a bit of an exaggeration, but I'll take it as a complement."

    His eyes looked me over once again; particularly, his gaze lingered on my eyes. What's his deal? Do I remind him of someone? I raised an eyebrow at him. "Something wrong, Chris?"

    The sound my voice snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. His eyes widened upon realizing what he was doing. "Oh—Forgive me for staring at you. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just that you remind me a lot of my sister, that's all."

    I raised an eyebrow. "Your sister?"

    "Yeah," Chris began. "When she was around your age, she used to get picked on a lot as well. Most of the time it was usually guys trying to hook up with her. Being the older brother I am, I offered plenty of times to knock some sense into those assholes, and every single time, she said no. In all honesty, she handled the situation more calmly, and much more differently than I would have. The only time when things got out of hand for her was during her sophomore year back in '94."

    I crossed my arms over my chest. "What happened?"

    "One idiot in particular—Jeremy Mcdowell I believe was his name—tormented my baby sister whenever the opportunity arose. At school, at the grocery store, hell, even in our old neighborhood. One night, he thought it would be a great idea to dress himself up as Jason Voorhees and scare the living daylights out of her while she was walking back home from the public library. Being the little fireball she was, and still is, my sister sent him to the hospital with two black eyes, multiple bruises, and groin swollen beyond repair."

    By the end of his story, I was laughing my head off. I couldn't contain my laughter and instinctively wrapped my arms around my abdomen. As soon as I was able to calm down, I stood back to my full height and looked up at Chris. "Your sister sounds like a total badass. Seriously. And in the end, it appears the douchebag got what he deserved."

    Chris chuckled. "Yeah, I agree with you there." He rested one hand in his pocket. "Listen...I know that this is kinda off topic, but there's something else I want to ask you."

    The corners of my mouth quirked down. I had no clue what could've been on his mind. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. "What is it?"

    He shifted uncomfortably from side to side, looking away for a moment and then redirecting his gaze back to me. "Did you have any relatives that previously served under the BSAA?"

    I froze in place. My eyes widened, looking away from him. I rested one sweaty palm over my chest; the feeling of my heart palpitating so quickly made me feel like it would burst out of my chest any moment now.

    Dad did. He joined the BSAA for only one reason: He thought he could help make the world a better place by fighting on the frontlines, and look where that got him...

    My body began to shake uncontrollably, and my lips quivered so much that I could barely muster the courage to answer him. "Yes, I do—I mean, I did. My—"

    Feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, I misplaced my footing and quickly planted my hands on top one of the nearby desks to stay afoot. I reached up and gripped the fabric of my shirt; the ever growing tightness in my throat only made it more difficult for me to breathe.

     "Shit! She's having a panic attack—!" The room fell silent within a matter of seconds once again, only this time, I couldn't hear anything except for my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

    Ba bum.

    Ba bum.

    Ba bum.

    And look what has become of my mother... She's a mess, a drunken mess at that, and far beyond the point of redemption. Nothing can be done to help her now—

    I was so lost in my own thoughts that I backed away when a pair of hands landed on my shoulders. Not looking up, I bolted out of the classroom and down the hallway.

    "Laura, wait! Come back!" A second pair of footsteps pounded against the tiled flooring far behind me, resonating throughout the hallway.

    You can't run away from your problems, Laura.

    I turned right into a different hallway, picking up my pace. Tears brimmed in my eyes, cascading down my cheeks. I picked up my pace, and upon turning left, I ran inside the girl's bathroom.

    Dad's gone, and he's never coming back. You need to accept that.

    I let my backpack fall off my shoulders onto the ground before rushing inside the closest bathroom stall. Locking the door behind me, my knees gave away from beneath me and I collapsed onto the tiled floor.

    One sob after another escaped my lips as I cried. I hugged my knees close to my chest, curling up into a ball to hide the tears trickling down my face like waterworks. The only thing I could feel right now was pain. The heart wrenching, agonizing pain from having to watch my family fall apart piece by piece.

    My breath hitched in my throat upon hearing a set of footsteps echo off the walls of the girl's bathroom. I perked my head up when someone knocked on the door of my bathroom stall.

    "Laura? Are you in there?" A sigh of relief left my lips when I recognized my best friend's voice.

    "Yeah," I replied with a hoarse tone. I wiped away my tears with my shaky fingertips.

    "Are you okay?"

    "Yes, I'm fine." I sat up off the ground and dusted myself off.

    "Do you wanna come out and talk about it?"

    I shook my head. "No, I—I just need some alone time right now. To clear my head and all." I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You won't tell anyone where I am, will you?"

    "I won't, I promise. I'll make sure that you're left alone for now. In the mean time," Em got onto her knees. "I'll leave this here for you then." She gently rolled an unopened can of Pepsi underneath the stall door. Leaning down, I picked it up off the floor. "If you need anything—anything at all—don't hesitate to call me or shoot me a text. You hear me?"

    "I know Em." I said. "And uh...thanks."

    "No problem. See ya later?"

    "Yeah, I'll come and say bye before school gets out." Emilie turned around and left the girl's bathroom.

   No longer feeling my heart beating loudly against my chest, I sat down on the toilet. My eyes lingered on the logo on the sofa can. This is much needed. I opened it up and gulped down a large portion of it, relishing in the fizzing sensation of the drink tickling the back of my throat. The tightness in my throat finally subsided; I breathed in, and after waiting for a moment, I let out a sigh of relief.

    At least I can't get drunk while drinking these. I'd rather get diabetes like Em than develop alcoholism, that's for sure. I chuckled at the thought before taking another swig of Pepsi.

* * *

    "This is far from over, Laura."

    I couldn't stop thinking about Catherine's words. The way her eyes gleamed with hatred was a definite, telltale sign; she was pissed. No matter how much of a relief it was to see Cat finally get what was coming to her, it wouldn't be long before she would find a way to retaliate. Knowing how much of a stuck-up, troublesome, spoiled brat she was, Catherine easily held a grudge against anyone who she deemed quote unquote "subservient."

    As concerning as the very thought of her scheming in order to get payback was, it wasn't the only thing on my mind. Earlier, I noticed Chris' persisting gaze; the only way I could describe it was it felt like he was trying to see through me, read me like an open book. It kinda creeped me out.

    What was that all about, seriously? Did I really remind him of his sister? Or someone else entirely? Maybe it could've been some white lie he made up off the top of his head? Whatever his reason was, it almost seemed like—

    "Laura, sweetheart. It's time for you to get off," Mrs. Wilson's voice pierced through the eerie silence, pulling me from my thoughts.

    I had been so immersed in my own little world that it took me until that moment to realize that I was the only kid left on the bus. Everyone else had gotten off at their own respective stop, and now, it was time for me to hop off and walk the rest of the way home. I glanced over at Mrs. Wilson, her dark brown eyes meeting my own as she turned around in her seat.

    "Is there something wrong? You've been awfully more quiet than usual."

    I couldn't help but laugh. "Since when am I not?" I sat up from my seat and tossed my backpack over my shoulder, ambling over towards the exit. "You know as much as I do how much of an introvert I am. I can't stand the idea of socializing with any of the imbeciles that ride this bus," I reminded her. I halted beside Mrs. Wilson, flashing her a sincere smile to mask my growing anxiety. "Have a great weekend."

    "You too, honey." A warm smile decorated her lips as she opened the door. "And happy early birthday."

    I thanked her and exited the school bus. When my feet touched the sidewalk, Mrs. Wilson closed the door behind me and took off down the road, leaving me to resume my trip back home by foot. The bus' booming engine became fainter and fainter with each passing second, steadily being drowned out by tires scraping against the asphalt road and vehicles honking in the distance.

    The longer I stand out here, the longer it'll take me to get home and finish my homework due on Monday. It's starting to get a bit chilly too... As if on cue, frigid wind gusted all throughout the street, causing goosebumps to protrude from the surface of my skin. ...and I could use a cup of hot coco right about now. I turned around, trekking home along the cement walkway.

    Passing by an alleyway, my ears picked up the sound of metal clinking, followed by the rustling of a garbage can. Turning to my right, I peered down the dimly lit pathway. Besides the other trash bins and discarded rubbish lining the area, there was nothing out of the ordinary. No caped crusaders hiding amongst the shadows, no hobos dumpster diving for any leftover food they could get their grimy hands on, nor any people taking a break outside to smoke. I must be hallucinating or something. Just a figment of my imagination. Seeing that the wind wasn't letting up, I turned around—

    —and stopped when one of the metal trash cans started to wobble on its own. I froze in place, spotting the culprit itself located far down the alleyway. My gut was telling me to ignore it and to get a move on already, but my legs seemed to have a mind of their own and inched towards the trash can.

    Trusting my curiosity over my gut instinct, I stopped in front of the trash can. I know I'm gonna regret this later... Raising my hand, my fingers wrapped around the handle and lifted the lid up—

    —and I instinctively backed away as a stray cat abruptly jumped out of the trash can. The black feline looked over in my direction, hissing at me before taking off.

    Sighing, I tucked a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. "That was a waste of time."

    I turned around, and the next thing I know, there was a firm grip on the back of my jacket and I was dragged backwards into the secluded alleyway. My backpack was snatched off my shoulders and tossed aside, and before I could call out for help, a switchblade was pressed against my neck. The sharpened edge of the blade hovered just millimeters over my throat; one wrong move and I was a goner.

    "Don't say a word or I won't hesitate cut to that pretty, pale neck of yours," he whispered in my ear, wrapping his left arm around my neck.

    I remained silent, not attempting to free myself from his grip as he tugged me deeper within the alleyway. When we came to a stop, three more of his friends appeared from around the corner. One familiar face walked up and approached us, flashing me a smug grin.

    "Well oh well... Why am I not surprised?  It's you. You and your wannabe mafia gang." He frowned and punched me in the face once again.

    Blood began to ooze from my nostril, dripping down onto the ground beneath us. "You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Josh wiped his bloody knuckles off on the fabric of his jeans, smearing the crimson liquid on his pant leg.

    Time to insult his ego even more...

    I reacted by spitting in the bastard's face, my bloody saliva coating his cheek. The corners of his mouth quirked down even more as he wiped the spit off his face, his features clouded with annoyance.

    "Did you really think that you could get away with what you pulled back there at the gym? Setting us up like that?" Josh's hand tightly gripped my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. "We all got suspended because of you. And now, I can't see Cat at all 'cause her Dad grounded her and put her under house arrest until further notice. He won't let me even visit her. He keeps claiming I'm a so-called "terrible influence" on her," he seethed through gritted teeth.

    And here I thought you couldn't become more ignorant than you already are...

    "That's all your fault, dumb-ass. Not mine," I pointed out. "Maybe if you guys stopped acting like y'all are the top of the food chain—when in fact—you all are nothing more than a bunch of imbeciles with piss-poor attitudes, then you wouldn't have gotten yourself or the rest of your friends in this mess now would you?"

    His grip tightened around my jaw. "Maybe if you just listened to Cat and started working on her paper like she asked, then things wouldn't have turned out this way." He finally let go of me, clenching his fists. "Then again, I'm glad that I've been given this opportunity to test out my new knife." Digging around in his back pocket, Josh pulled out a butterfly knife, revealing the polished blade with a flick of his wrist.

    And...that's my cue to leave. I've entertained these fools for long enough.

    "Maybe if you hadn't become an alcoholic at such a young age, you wouldn't be making so many stupid decisions right now. And guess what buddy boy?"

    His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

    A mischievous smile curled onto my lips. "You picked the wrong bitch to mess with." I rapidly kneed Josh in the nuts. He hollered out in pain as he dropped his knife to clutch his privates.

    Quickly grabbing ahold of my captor's right hand, I jerked it away from my throat long enough for me to cock my right shoulder to the right and duck underneath his arms to escape his chokehold. Once behind him, I twisted the guy's arm behind his back. He grunted in pain and let go of his pocket knife as well. I kicked his weapon away, far behind his reach, and upon noticing the remaining two closing in, I picked him up by the arm and spun him around with enough momentum to hurl him in his friends' direction. He crashed into all three of them, knocking them all down onto the ground one by one like a bunch of bowling pins. As soon as they were all down for the count, I turned on my heel and darted in the opposite direction.

    "Don't let her escape!" Josh barked, followed by the echo of multiple footsteps.

    Picking up my pace, I raced farther down the alleyway, going as fast as I could to create as much distance between them and me. Upon glancing up ahead, my eyes landed on the eight foot metal fence blocking off the other half of the alley. You go to be kidding me— The thought was abruptly cut off as soon as I spotted a dumpster sitting perpendicular along one of brick walls, not too far from the fencing. On second thought, that might work. I just have to time it right—

    "Hurry up! She's getting away!"

    I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder, realizing that Josh and the rest of his gang weren't far behind me. They were less than ten feet away and closing in by the second. I couldn't keep running forever. I may had been in better shape than other girls my age, but that didn't mean that I wasn't prone to exhaustion.

    It was now or never.

    Once I was inches from the dumpster, I jumped up on top of the massive trash can. Using my remaining momentum, I bent my knees and leapt off of it and into the air. My hands immediately latched onto the top of the fence, my grip tightening over the fencing despite the sharp tips of the metal wiring digging into my palms. Ignoring the pain, I quickly hauled myself over the fence. The instant my feet touched the ground, I turned right down the first intersecting backstreet.

    BAM!

    BAM!

    BAM!

    BAM!

    I came to an abrupt halt upon hearing gunshots resonating throughout the alleyway, followed by Josh's blood-curdling screams. What in the actual fuck—? Another gunshot rang out, only this time much closer than before. Not wanting to find out who could've fired those shots, I booked it.

* * *

    Closing the door behind me, a wave of relief washed over me, calming my overactive nerves. Whoever it was—whether it was one of Josh's friend or some trigger happy asshole—they were long gone. There was no way for he, or she, to track me down now.

    Or so I thought.

    Sighing in relief, I made my way past the lobby towards the elevator. I pressed the up button on the panel, waiting for the elevator to reach the ground level. Once it stopped at my floor, it dinged and the doors automatically slid open. I felt my breath hitch in my throat when my eyes landed on my backpack—the same one I left behind in that alley—sitting in the center of the lift. I blinked a couple times, going as far as pinching myself to make sure I wasn't hallucinating, but there it was, waiting patiently for me to retrieve it.

   I quickly glanced around, seeing if there was anyone within my vicinity. There wasn't a single soul in sight. Not even the janitor, Mr. Escott, who was usually preoccupied with mopping the entryway. I was all alone, for now. I stepped inside the elevator, with countless thoughts racing through my mind. I hurriedly pressed the fourth floor button, prompting the metallic doors to close in front of me.

    As the lift was making its one-way trip up, I examined the contents in my backpack. Unzipping the front pocket, my eyes landed on the small, cardboard box with a silky, red ribbon tied around it in a bow. Picking it up, I gulped as I looked down at the little present in my hand. I've got a bad feeling about this... Slowly, I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid off of it. My lips parted in shock as I looked inside: A broken phone, snapped in half, was cracked beyond repair, its screen stained with dried blood. Whoever's blood it was, I didn't want to know.

    Sitting on top of the cellular device was a folded piece of paper, tucked away within the box. I picked it up, and after unfolding it, my eyes skimmed over the words written neatly in cursive.

    Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me, my dear.

    Secret? What secret? My eyes wandered over towards the broken phone within the box. Wait a minute...this is an iPhone 8. Apple recently released this phone brand earlier this month. I studied the phone case, cringing at the sight of it. A Justin Bieber phone case? Oh god...this is Catherine's phone!

    I quickly placed the cardboard lid back on the box and shoved it back inside my backpack as the elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor. Zipping up the front pocket, I draped my bag over my shoulder and bolted from the lift.

    By the time I reached my apartment, I unlocked the front door with my spare key, rushing inside as if my life depended on it. Locking the door behind me, I set my backpack down on the ground. My knees gave out from underneath me and I collapsed onto the floor. I leaned my aching back against the door, hugging my knees close to my chest. To say I was tired would be an understatement; I was drained.

    Exhaustion had finally begun to take its toll on me, forcing my lungs to consistently expand and then contract in a continuous cycle to replenish my body with oxygen. My legs were immensely sore, and once I had plopped down on the floor, the cramping in my lower extremities had started to subside. A thin layer of perspiration coated parts of my face and neck, giving off a not so pleasant odor.

    Using Piers' handkerchief, I wiped off the remaining blood that coagulated underneath my nostrils and around my mouth. I need to wash off all the dried blood on his hanky and give it back to him the next time I see him. It's the least I could do for him for taking me to the nurse's office. I stood back up onto my own two feet, my mind set on starting a load of laundry when a godawful smell assaulted my nostrils without warning.

    I immediately pinched my nose with my fingertips and erupted into a coughing fit in a vain attempt to block out the horrible smell. What the fuck? I glanced around, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Why does it smell like a butchery in here? Did someone die in here or something? Normally, the place reeked of alcohol and barf, and no matter how many times I've tried to mask the smell using numerous odor products, it would never seem to go away. Instead, it smelled like death; the kind of scent given off in slaughterhouses and morgues than anywhere else.

    Determined to find out where the source of the putrid smell was coming from, I started to inspect the apartment, relying on my keen sense of smell to track down where it was coming from. The first place I checked was the kitchen, seeing if maybe my mother had left any food out or spewed up contents from her stomach for me to clean up again. As far as I could tell, there wasn't any expired sustenance left to rot in the kitchen, not even a single pile of puke much to my surprise. The kitchen was immediately ruled out from my checklist.

    Walking into the living room, the smell had become stronger. Much stronger in fact. I couldn't help but choke on the pungent stench, struggling to breathe in the repulsive air that filled the room. This fact alone confirmed my suspicion that the smell was coming from somewhere on the first floor of the apartment, someplace close. My eyes looked over the furniture and other decor in the living room. There was no sign of the rotten culprit in this room either, same as the kitchen.

    Gulping down the tidbit of barf that had risen up in the back of throat, I turned left down the dimly lit hallway. I silently placed one foot in front of the other, heading towards my mother's bedroom. I didn't want to believe it, or even acknowledge it for that matter. The idea of the smell originating from the master bedroom left me feeling queasy with butterflies in my stomach. It didn't help much either that the smell was getting much stronger with each step I took towards her bedroom. I didn't even have a single clue to what exactly I was looking for; there could've been anything waiting for me on the other side of the door for all I knew.

    Halting in front of the door, my breath hitched in my throat. Blood was smeared all over the door handle, dripping onto the carpet beneath my feet. What made me panic more than anything was that the blood hadn't coagulated yet—it was still fresh.

    "Mom?" I called out, failing to hide the uneasiness in my tone. "Mom, are you in there?"

    Silence. Nothing but silence.

    I knocked on the door. Nothing. I knocked on the door again. Still nothing. Knocking on the door for a third time, I ended up pushing it open slightly. Strange... It's not locked. Mom always kept her door locked. Did she forget to lock it before heading to bed? Or is she still here?

    There was only one way to find out.

    I steadily pushed the door open, its hinges creaking as my eyes landed on the mangled corpse laying on the blood-drenched bed. I let out an ear-splitting shriek, screaming bloody murder.