Payton
My feet ache as I make my way out of the school building and to the faculty parking lot. I normally don’t stay until it’s dark, but today we rearranged the classroom and organized the craft closet while we were at it.
It’s not like anyone is waiting for me at home, which reminds me about not having anyone to prepare dinner either. I guess I’ll eat a bowl of ramen noodles. Or maybe I’ll just fall into bed and sleep since I slept so terribly last night. After tossing and turning forever, I finally took some melatonin to knock myself out. Even that didn’t help the way I’d hoped, and I ended up having a weird dream that one of the twins was in my room.
Usually, this would be a night I’d go to dance class, but since that Matthew incident last week, I haven’t gone back. I don’t plan on going back either. I won’t let him bully me into sleeping with him. He can be thankful I didn’t go to the cops. I hate Matthew for what he did to me, but I despise the justice system even more.
Since Sally was picked up by her husband, my car is the only one remaining in the parking lot. An eerie feeling creeps up my spine, but I shove it back down.
A gust of wind blows into my jacket, and I pick up my pace to get to my car quicker. The low thuds of my footsteps is the only sound floating through the brisk air… until it’s not.
A second pair of footfalls meets my ear, and I spin around to see where it is coming from.
“Hello, my little slut,” Matthew sneers. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I don’t answer. I don’t think. I just run.
As fast as my feet carry me, I sprint to my car. Thanking the universe that I walked out with my keys in my hand, I unlock the door and get into my car.
I barely get the door shut and locked before Matthew catches up with me. He bangs his fist against the glass so furiously I think he might actually break it.
With trembling fingers, I miss the ignition with my keys three times. Shaken to the core, a sob rips from my chest when I’m finally able to slide it in. The engine roars to life, and I put the car in reverse.
The tires squeal as I back out of the parking spot, and the loud banging against my window finally seizes. Swinging my steering wheel around, I angle the car out, then try to switch gears to drive.
I yank on the stupid stick, but the fucking thing gets stuck. Cursing, I pull on it with both hands until it finally slips into gear, then I hit the gas before I even look up.
Everything happens so fast. I don’t even have time to get my foot off the pedal. Somehow, Matthew has made it around to the front of my car. His wide, fearful eyes are the last thing I see before I strike him down with my car. His body flies up onto my windshield, cracking the glass with a loud smash.
A blood-curdling scream rips from my throat, and I finally move my foot from the gas and stomp on the breaks, but it’s already too late. The car skids to a halt, catapulting my body into the steering wheel with brutal force, knocking the air out of me. My forehead connects with the corner of the dash, and pain erupts across my skull.
With a pained groan, I cut the engine, leaving nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing to fill the cab.
Frantically, I look around the car, not even sure what I am looking for. My thoughts are all over the place, and I have no idea what to do. I should probably get out of the car and check on Matthew, but I’m too scared.
That’s when I check the review mirror.
No, no, no.
All the blood in my veins freezes when I take in Matthew’s lifeless body on the ground. Oh my god. Did I? I stare into the reflection for a few more minutes, willing him to move.
Come on. Get up.
The longer I stare at his unmoving form, the larger the hole beneath me—threatening to pull me under— grows.
Shit, I killed him.
Another minute passes before I can bring myself to find my phone. I unlock the screen and start to dial nine-one-one.
My finger hovers over the second one, but I can’t bring myself to press down. Memories of countless interrogations, court dates, and threats. Months of community services and being treated like a criminal all come rushing back to me.
They are not going to believe me. They didn’t then, and they won’t now.
The question is, what am I going to do? Where am I going to go?
“All right… well, call us if you ever need anything, and I mean anything.” Cash’s words run through my mind. Without thinking too much about it, I scroll through my contacts to find him. Just as he said, his name comes up under C.
Cash (The good-looking twin)