Chapter 5

Mimi didn't find me at all the next day, a rare occurrence. When I called her during break, she didn't answer. Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I push the phone away. "Hi, Kay."

"You've been distracted all day. What's up?"

I notice a twisted smile upon her lips. I run my hands over my face, and it's gone. "I'm fine. Just tired and worried is all."

"About Mimi?” She fidgets with her fingers.

A knot finds itself in my stomach. "How’d you know?" The more I'm around her, the more my skin crawls.

"Just a hunch. I haven't seen her with you all day."

"I see. Well, I'm going to go check on her."

"Can I come?" she asks, a shadow fleeting over her face.

I shake my head; I’m imagining things. Kay is only a high school girl.

"Yeah, I suppose she won't mind. She's probably just skipped today to be with her boyfriend." I knew that probably wasn’t the case - Mimi was dedicated to her studies and never missed school, even if she was sick.

Standing outside Mimi’s house, Kay seems to swell with pride. "Well, she isn't answering her phone or door,” I say, the ball of worry in my chest tightening its grip with each breath I take.

The white, wooden door gives the tiniest of protests as it opens to a dank, dark entryway. Kay nudges me forward and I step farther into the house, calling her name.

"Mimi?" A gentle, small hand on my lower back ushers me deeper inside as a heavy, copper-like scent grows stronger.

I turn into what should be her kitchen and trip, falling into a puddle. I try to gather myself but slip face-first into the liquid.

The area lights up with a small click as Kay turns the light on. I groan, the side of my face throbbing from hitting the floor, and open my eyes. Another set of eyes meet mine, yet they are devoid of glimmer. An abyss stares back at me as something snaps inside my brain.

I pushed up my languid body as fear pumps through me. My blood boils hot enough to cause a sweating fit, yet my skin is cold and clammy. Mimi’s lifeless, mangled form, sprawled on the floor in a position of agony, and her slashed throat revealed her final moments to me while the nearby blade answered my unspoken question.

Worse still, a man in a turtleneck sweater with cropped hair laid against the wall with a contorted face as if he bore witness to the devil. His stare lingered on another corpse lying face down with salt-and-pepper colored hair. She was dyed from head to toe in a crimson color.

Realizing the truth behind the bodies, the pain in my chest and the horrors in my imagination meet in my throat, rising to escape from my mouth in a glass-shattering scream.