Death Rolls the Dice

My breath became hitched. I was sucking in nothing. I couldn’t breathe. I was dying, but wasn’t I already dead?

My mind was whirling with questions that I couldn’t make since of. I couldn't remember anything, nor could I think straight.

I hit the roof above me. It didn't budge. I punched and kicked it multiple times before it finally started to give way. After about 2 more minutes of hitting it, a big, long crack became visible. Dirt starting pouring from it and freaked me out.

It took all the power in me but I stood up. I found myself staring into a graveyard. This isn't really happening, right? Just a dream. I did not just come back to life or some creepy shit from the movies.

My whole body ached as I stood up. I was cold, dirty, and I smelled like I hadn't taken a shower in years.

That's when it hit me. All the memories flooded back.

"Stop!" I yelled at him, struggling in my chair. I tried to push him out of my mind. I tried to push the images he threw at me out of my mind.

All of a sudden, they dissapeared and I could see clearly. I noticed I was taking deep breaths, although I didn't feel tired at all.

"That's what happens when your dying." Logan pointed out.

I looked down, refusing to give in to him anymore. I had thought about his day so many times. I always dreamed it would be with my sister. We would make this day the best we could. But instead, I was here. With my psycho ex-boyfriend.

I heard a gun shot in the room next over and then a screech. Logan quickly rushed out of the room, as he reached for the knife tucked in his shoe.

I taught him that

I suddenly felt more angry than I had ever been before in my life. Although my body was weakened from days of no sleep, no food, and torture, I used a technique that my dad had showed Zara and I as a last resort situation, for slicing a very important vein was at risk.

Once I had undone my hands, I quickly reached down and untied my feet. It hurt like a son of a bitch to stand up but I pulled through.

I reached down my shirt and got out the 'pen' my sister and I both hid inside our bras. Then I quietly slipped out of the room and into the next one over, to see that the room was inhabitant.

I creeped through the warehouse, expecting someone to jump out at any moment. A scream erupted through the air. It was Roxi.

I ran outside, where it came from and saw Roxi on the ground, knocked out, and Tues pressed against the wall by one of the many demons there, with a knife to her throat.

Nobody had noticed me yet, for that I was thankful but I couldn't just stand there. I aimed the pen at the guy about to slice Tues and quickly pressed the button. A small missle wizzed through the air and into his back. He backed up a little before his body starting flickering and he went up in flames, the knife falling out of his hand.

Logan had noticed I was out there by then and he quickly came after me, but we both knew I was faster than him. He had no chance next to me.

I turned around to start running but found myself chest-to-nose with someone. I looked up to see yellow orbs looking down at me. I barely had time to register it before I was thrown against the wall.

Roxi's unconscious body was roughly thrown next to me, same to Tuesday.

"Let's call your sister, shall we?"

I took a deep breath. I can't believe that actually happened.

I looked at my headstone.

Taylor Marie Henderson.

September 12, 1985 - July 15, 2008

Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Girlfriend

Culpabilter Accipiatur Daemonis Oculis: Requiem Sine Informationis

I quickly noticed that the last sentence was in Latin. I studied it for sometimes before I figured it out.

"Criminally Taken In The Eyes Of A Demon; Rest Without Interference." I whispered to myself.

I kicked the headstone as I realized I was really gone. I was really dead.

How much time did I miss?

My body felt numb as I walked through the sunrise, trying my best not to trip over headstones.

As it got lighter, I was able to see myself more clearly. I was wearing a tiny little dress and I was barefoot. Just like I told my sister I wanted to be.

A car horn scared the fucking shit out of me as I was walking down the road. I looked at the car as it passed. A group of teenage boys heads were stuck out of the windows and they were whistling. I probably looked like a fucking hooker.

The sun got hotter as the day progressed and I felt like I was going to die of dehydration. Who knew how long it had been since I last had a drink?

I was literally in the middle of knowhere, my feet were hurting, and I just woke up from the longest nap of my life. A couple minutes later, I saw a building in the distance!

"Land Ho!" I yelled out. Although it came out as a raspy whisper.

I mustered up every fiber in my being and began to slowly jog to it. It was about a fourth of a mile away before I slowed it down to a high paced walk.

When I finally reached it, I noticed it was a convenient store. And it was closed.

"Just my luck." I seethed and lifted my leg up weakly to try to kick through the glass door. My foot merely bounced off. So I picked up a stray brick and chunked it.

That worked I thought and made my way through the shards. Surprisingly, no alarms went off.

I quickly rushed to the bottled waters. I don't think I'd ever been happier than when that ice cold liquid ran down my throat.

After I ate practically everything in the store, I decided it was time for me to go to the bathroom.

While I was washing my hands, I splashed some water in my face. That's when I noticed it.

For one, I had my natural hair color. The fuck?

And second; there was a hand print the size of Texas on my forearm. The fuck?

I had no idea where either of them had come from and the hand print hurt like a son of a bitch.

I decided not to spend much time on the what-if's and made my way to the back of the convenient store to see if there was a hooked-up phone of some sort.

Sure enough, I found one. It was hiding behind a couple boxes and was covered in dust. I dialed the first number that came to my mind.

"Hello?" The voice cut through the silence I'd so far lived in.

"Ab-" I cleared my throat, "Abby."

"This is she." She paused, "May I ask who's calling?"

"It's me. Taylor."

It was silent before she shakily awnsered, "I don't know who the fuck this is, but you better never call me again. Taylor is gone and I can't bear to have fucking random ass people calling my house and joking about this kind of thing. Fuck you."

"No, it's really-" Dial tone.

I sighed and slammed the phone into its holder. The wall reverbrated with the impact and a box on top of a shelf in a corner to my right fell.

I trudged over to the box and instantly wished I hadn't.

Fish hooks.

The pain was excruciating. I'd never hurt his much in my entire life. I had no idea how much time had passed but it had felt like days I've been up here.

Large fish hooks hooked to my skin kept me from falling into nothingness. Blood splayed my vision. I was numb, blind, and my hearing was slowly going away.

All of a sudden, I was snapped out of there. Fish hooks gone. Blood covering the holes they had made.

I was in a completely black room, I could see fine. Everything was just black.

I immediatly fell to the floor. All I wanted to do was sleep, but dead people weren't supposed to sleep. Right?

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here."

I kept my eyes glued to the floor. That voice... I slowly let my eyes lead up the body of the person.

"Zack..."

I touched the spots in my skin that the hooks were attached to. There was no mark.

I took a slow breath out. I didn't know what to make of things. Everything was so strange. I'm not even sure I wanted to make since of things.

But I did make since of one thing. Sooner or later, I'd have to go home.

-------------------

I called a taxi company that Zara and I had used many times before. The cab drivers had once recognized us because we'd gone so many times before.

As we pulled into the country road that Bobby lived on, I got nervous. Not butterflies, I-can't-wait-to-see-this-person nervous. More like oh-I-hope-he-doesnt-kill-me nervous. I had no weapons to defend myself and my now-flabby arms hadn't gotten any excercise since God know's when.

I knocked on the door. Backing up a couple steps before the door swung open might have just saved me a great deal of pain.

For there was Bobby, bat in his hand, crazed look on his face. But I already had that part planned out.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I yelled, and caught the bat he swung in mid-air. Atleast my reflexes were still good, "I can explain. Just give me one freaking moment."

He paused for a second, a sad look crossing over his face. But apparently he changed his mind because I now had a bruise the size of the side of a baseball bat on my arm.

He swung again but this time I ducked under the bat, so quickly he didn't know what had happened, and ran into his kitchen.

I grabbed the canteen of holy water he always kept by his sink, and a big silver knife.

He rushed after me but by the time he got into the kitchen, I was already sliding the silver knife across my skin. He stopped in his tracks.

"I told you. I'm not a shapeshifter or anything else. I'm. Taylor." I put the knife down, "And I'm just as confused as you are."