Dead Girls Never Talk

Journey

“I swear,they make us come to the party last every time. Do you guys realize that?” Mercedes laughed under her breath, fluffing up her hair. Sloane, Gemma, Mercedes, and I all squeezed into Gemma and Sloane’s room to get ready for the party. Sloane and I were both wearing black, but our outfits couldn’t have been more different.

I had on my black skinny jeans, my old Converse, and a black tank that Sloane threw at me after I showed up in my hoodie—the usual. She was showing off more skin by wearing a short black dress and some black Doc Martens. Her makeup was sleek and dark, and it made her a total smoke show. I wasn’t sure who she had her eye on, but whoever it was, was in for it.

“Rainbow?” Sloane asked, glancing at Gemma. “Why so many colors?”

Gemma laughed, tightening her ponytail. “Because Isaiah and I didn’t discuss what color we were wearing. I just told him he better match me, so I wore every color.”

“You guys are so cute it’s annoying.” That was from Mercedes. She was wearing a light-blue crop top with a leather skirt, which looked pretty against her tan skin and unruly dark hair. I would bet my life on it that Shiner showed up wearing light blue, too.

We all stopped talking as we descended down the stairs one by one, each of us grabbing onto the intricate handrail. It was quiet, and my heart started to skip with the reality that I continued to push away for the night.

I paused, one foot on the step in front of me. “Oh, shit,” I rushed out. My knife. My anxiety kicked up a notch as I glanced at the scars on my arms.

“What’s wrong?” Sloane asked. Gemma was right beside her, looking hesitant.

“Um…” I can’t tell them that I carry a knife around, can I? “I forgot something in my room. You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure?” Sloane asked, knowing more than the rest of the girls. Her eyes squinted, and her black, winged eyeliner momentarily disappeared. “We can wait.”

“And risk getting caught by the duty teacher?” I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Trust me, I know how to sneak around. I did it plenty at the psych ward.”

There was a strange sort of silence that fell upon the four of us. If I listened hard enough, I bet I could hear the snowflakes hitting the icy ground outside the windows of St. Mary’s. There were times where I thought we all forgot that I had been stripped away from this place and thrown into a psychiatric unit and that there were still rumors floating around about me that were no more than saying that I belonged in a padded room.

But the truth was, time had passed. We were all different, and we all had secrets.

“Okay, only if you’re sure.” That was from Gemma, and I gave her a quick nod, turned around, and began walking quickly to my room to snag my knife. I didn't necessarily thinkI needed it right this moment, but I also hadn’t thought someone would try to kill me out in the courtyard several months ago, so there was that.

As soon as the blade hit my palm, I breathed out a sigh of relief. I felt powerful again, and a little less on edge. There was always an inkling within reach as I moved around quietly, rounding corners and peering in the dark crevices that only housed spiders and their webs, but that inkling didn’t feel as eerie with a sharp knife in my hand. I felt like I was a little more invisible than before—although, I knew that wasn’t true.

No more than a second after I shoved the knife in my back pocket and turned the corner of the last hall, chills raced down my spine, clinging to every curved bone. My arms grew cold, and my scars tingled. I had my eyes set on the heavy door that led to the bottom of St. Mary’s, but it suddenly looked very far away.

When I took a step forward, I knew I should have listened to my intuition. A hand snaked around my waist, and I gasped, flinging around quickly in his grasp. Please be Cade.

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day,” the voice said, deep and grumbly, muffled by the thick cotton covering his face.

Not again.

My only reaction should have been to fight him. I should have reached in my pocket, grabbed the handle of the knife that Cade gave me, and stabbed the fuck out of him like Tobias taught me to do, but instead, I felt my brows dip and my rationality slip away. “Who are you?” I asked. “Are you the one who tried to kill me?”

I wiggled, pushing down on his strong arms that had multiple tiny scars on them, as if he’d been hit with exploding pieces of glass at some point. “Kill you? I’m here to take you.”

My heart hammered, and I began to gasp like I was drowning as the reality of the situation I was in made its way to the forefront of my brain. Run. The scream that was lodged in my chest finally tore out of my throat like a wolf howling in the night. His grip tightened, and one hand flew to my mouth as my nails dug into his skin, tearing at his flesh. The hallway was dark, but I still wanted nothing more than to rip his mask off. I didn’t, though, because I knew that if I didn’t act quickly and use the element of surprise, he’d win. Men were bigger than me—it was as plain and simple as that—and this was definitely a man. His voice was deep, and his hands had been worked and worked over the years. Scars littered his skin, and he was taller than most.

You have to strike fast and use your specific skills, Journey. You’re tiny and quick. Use that. Tobias’ hushed voice lingered in the air around me as I was thrust back into reality with my head spinning from the lack of oxygen that the man was stealing. His elbow dug into my windpipe as his hand covered my last scream.

No.

“I should have known you’d fight back. After all, you are half of her.”

Anger festered in my core. I knew that he was referring to my mother, and it had my knee swinging upward, colliding with his groin. His head came down swiftly and knocked my lip into my teeth, coating my mouth with blood. Get to the basement, get to the basement, get to the basement. My hand dug into my jeans as the man groaned, and I gripped the knife tightly, pulling it in its sheath out from the denim. He was quick, but he was surprised that I had fought back. If I can just get out of his grasp, I can make it.

Curse words littered from his mouth as he recovered, and he quickly joined my hands in one of his, and then something strong and painful bit into my wrists. He can’t see the knife. Since my hands were bundled together in what I thought was a zip tie, my knife was camouflaged in between both palms. I kept my head level and fought the panic as his two strong hands squeezed my bare arms so tightly I screamed out again. Where is the duty teacher? I peered behind the man as he swayed in front of me, showing me that my vision was a little muddled from either panic or from the blow of his head onto mine. It didn’t deter me from wiggling the knife between my palms and letting the sheath fall to the floor, though. My hand stung as the sharp blade wiggled the rest of the way down, but as soon as I saw the sheen of metal, I planted my feet as firmly as I could, only letting him drag me a little farther. When he turned around, I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. I jammed the knife into his belly and watched as shock hindered his movements.

His hands fell, and my knife came next. It clamored to the ground, sounding as if the metal had shattered against the black-and-white tile. I wasted no time turning around and running straight for the basement. I wanted to yell for help, but I kept my mouth shut because I was too afraid I’d lead him right to me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cried out in a whisper, feeling the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. It didn’t matter how mentally prepared you were for something like this to happen, it still shocked you to the core. My hands were shaking, and I smashed my lips together to keep a sob inside as my bloody hands slipped on the doorknob. I used both of them, grasping it as tightly as I could, even if my wrists were raw, and my hand was burning.

The second the latch popped, I felt the relief hit me from behind that kept my feet plowing through the cool, damp puddles beneath my shoes. It was dark in the passageway, and I bumped into the wall a few times, my shoulder instantly feeling bruised. Choppy sobs echoed around me as I realized I no longer felt safe, and I no longer felt confident enough to deal with this on my own. I had to stop pretending that I could. There was nothing quite like being attacked again to bring up old memories and hidden vulnerabilities.

The second the door for the claiming party was in front of my face, I ran right for it. There was no music thumping on the other side like usual, and my hands slipped on the doorknob before it was suddenly whipped open, and I fell to my knees.

A scream of pain left me, and the room went silent.