Left Behind.

Author’s note: This is a fictional story. Nothing to do with my real life.

Chapter 1:

I run, run as fast as my legs will allow. Never looking back, knowing that the dark figure still looms over me. I run until my legs scream for me to stop, run until I don’t know where I’m going, and the only thing that keeps me sane, is the constant slap of my bare feet against the pavement. I run until I trip and fall, and graze my legs on the way down. I open my eyes to see the shadow engulfing me, as I’m pulled into the darkness.

***

“Hayley?” I heard a high-pitched voice whisper my name.

“Hayley?” The voice said a tad louder.

I opened my eyes to see my wide-eyed sister who stood over me. But we weren’t in our trashy apartment. I was in a lifeless white room with monitors that flashed and beeped rhythmically all around me. It took me a moment to realize where I was. By then, my sister lost interest in me and turned to face the annoying show that was playing full volume on the TV in the corner of the room.

The Hospital? I thought.

“Diana?” I rasped, surprised by how sickly my voice sounded.

“What?” she said, half distracted by the show.

“Why am I in the hospit-“My attention abruptly pulled from my younger sister by the figure that appeared it the doorway.

In the doorway stood a tall, muscular uniformed police officer, about 6’2 in his 30’s, with dirty blonde hair. He looked at us and forces an awkward smile despite his cold green eyes.

He looked directly at my sister and said, “ma’am I’d like to talk to your sister alone.”

“I’m not moving.” she said in her usual sassy way.

She looked over to see me rolling my eyes at her snide comment and she sighed.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever” she mumbled as she left the room.

The police officer turned to me, sighed and pulled out a notepad and made a show of writing on it as though he would rather be somewhere else.

“Ok…. Your name is, Hayley…Um….” He said, then looked at his notepad.

“Hayley Fredrickson” I said impatiently.

“Right. Ok. Are you aware of what happened last night after you visited Miss Keller’s?”

I was at Julia’s house? I thought.

“No, what happened?” My heart started pounding.

Is Julia all right? I thought, and my heart skipped a beat. I visualized her walking through the door. But she didn’t.

He paused to write on his notepad. He completely avoided my question. Then before I could ask again, he got on his phone and stepped out into the hallway. I sighed. I sat there, unsure what to do.

My IV’s strained as I pushed my hair out of my face. That’s when I felt my rough skin. I didn’t have rough skin yesterday. I explore the rest of my face. I must look dreadful. Almost all of my face is bandages, the part that wasn’t, were deep gashes and checkered cuts that ran the length of my usual smooth face.

What happened last night? I think.

No one washed my hair, either. It was matted with god knows what, and my fingers caught in it. I explored the rest of my injuries to find that my stomach and most of the parts on my arms and legs were bandaged.

The officer stepped back into the room after what seemed like a lifetime. He cleared his throat dramatically.

“Your friend Julia has been murdered, and we think you may be a witness” he said, expressionless.

This statement shocked me and robbed me of breath. I could no longer think straight. My eyes became bleary as I tried to control my sobs. Julia Keller was my Best friend. I’d known her since we were in diapers. She cannot be dead. He’s lied to me. My best friend would never die and leave me alone.

Julia was the best friend that I would never see again. And without her, I am nothing. Every day of life without her would be a reminder of the night I will never remember. Julia Keller is dead and I have a feeling it’s my fault.