Everybody's Losing Control

It was Saturday now, the first week of June, and Mya was getting more and more irritated. Everywhere she went, Seth came. Every time she left the house, at least 4 people followed her. She never had any privacy and she was getting sick of it. Mya had spent last night and this morning with the Cullens, but now Seth was driving her home. Quil was in the car behind whilst Sam and Paul were running ahead.

“When I said don’t leave me alone, I didn’t mean like this. This is getting ridiculous!” Mya scowled as they pulled up outside her house, Sam and Paul walking out of the trees in human form.

“Do you want to be killed?” Seth muttered, cutting the engine.

“I’d prefer it than to be babysat 24 fucking 7,” Mya retorted.

Seth rolled his eyes as he got out the car, opening Mya’s front door. She got out in silence, ignoring Seth as she walked to her house. Seth, Quil, Paul and Sam followed her in, Mya picking up the newspaper as they sat down in the living room.

“Erm, is this what I think it is?” Mya murmured, reading the front page with worry.

She walked over to the boys, sitting on Seth’s lap as she showed them the article.

“12 bodies in 3 days. All in Seattle,” Sam groaned.

“Shit,” Paul cursed.

“They’re coming back. And getting closer. How much time do I have left?” Mya asked monotonally.

“For fuck’s sake, stop being so pessimistic! They’re not going to get you!” Seth snapped.

Mya scowled down at him, getting off his lap and walking into the kitchen. Seth sighed irritably, running his hands through his hair.

“Smooth,” Quil snorted.

“What am I supposed to do when she starts saying how she’d rather be killed than be babysat?!” Seth exasperated.

“Damn, she said that?” Sam frowned.

Seth nodded miserably, frowning too.

“We can’t exactly loosen up though, can we?” Paul sighed.

“Nope, especially not with them getting closer again,” Quil replied, shaking his head.

“I just wish she’d see things our way,” Seth mumbled.

“Cheer up, man, she will,” Sam said supportively.

Seth just shrugged, reaching for the newspaper again. Sam, Quil and Paul watched in curiosity as his expression quickly went to one of fury.

“Apparently the ‘murderers’ have a thing for dramatics,” Seth snarled.

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

Seth just threw him the newspaper as he ran outside to control himself.

“Hands and feet bound, broken fingers, rape, signs of torture…shit, these leeches are psychotic,” Sam choked, grimacing at the pictures in the article.

“For both their sakes, I hope we get to them first,” Paul groaned.

*

Later that evening, Mya had rejoined the boys about an hour ago, but sat in a one-person chair, meaning she was on the other side of the room. She hadn’t spoken a word to Seth all afternoon, and she knew it was aggravating him. At about 6pm, Will and her mom got home.

“Good evening everyone!” Carrie trilled from the corridor outside.

“Good evening Mrs O’Donnell!” the four boys called.

Will walked into the room with a smile. But that smile faded when he saw Mya’s scowl.

“What’s wrong?” Will frowned.

“Nothing,” Mya muttered.

“Mya’s being pessimistic again,” Seth said, rolling his eyes.

“Would you just shut up! God!” Mya hissed.

She leapt to her feet and stormed up the stairs. Everyone groaned.

“I’ve talked to her about this already,” Will sighed, flopping down into Mya’s chair.

“She’s just getting more and more irritated. This didn’t help,” Embry said with a weak smile, throwing Will the newspaper.

“I-Is this who is after Mya?” Will stuttered, his eyes scanning the article in fear.

The boys only had time to nod as Carrie poked her head in the room, a slight frown on her face.

“Where’s Mya?” she asked.

“Taking a nap in her room,” Seth answered quickly.

“Ah right, I’ll leave her to it,” Carrie said with a smile.

When she left the room, the boys let out a breath of relief.

“Hopefully Mya’ll get over her mood by tomorrow,” Sam smiled.

“Mm, hopefully,” Seth said, although he knew it wouldn’t happen.