“Is there any particular reason you are in such a bad mood?” I poke at his ribs, letting out a giggle myself, but he doesn’t budge. “Oh, come on, grumpy…you’re no fun.” Dipping my head I mumble, “Danny, really, what’s going on?” I’m met with a frown on his face and the wind blowing my hair into my face.“Listen I’m trying my best here,” he stays silent, “and I’m sure that whatever it is, I can help you.” He stuffs his hand through his dark hair, and than uses it to rub his eyes.

  “Sloane,” he hesitates for a moment, “I just need you to shut up for a minute okay? I’m trying to think.” A part of me shatters. He hasn’t ever spoken to me like that. Not since- well we don’t talk about that. “S-sorry. But I do need your help.”

  “OK, what do you need help with? And where are we going anyway?” I ask, my heart still slightly aching. He stops walking, stopping me too by placing each hand on my shoulders. His eyes narrow, and he bites his bottom lip. I swallow a lump in my throat, I know that look. And I know what will happen if I don’t help him. I’ve lived this before. I don’t want to do it again. “No, Danny, please.” I cup my face in my hands trying to hide.

  “I know, I know. Sloane, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I-I just get so mad sometimes, I’ll get real help I swear. Please just this last time.” I pull away from him. 

  “You say that every time…” He nods and then grabs my wrist tightly and forcefully tugs me forward. “Danny, stop.” He doesn’t and his grip tightens as I pull away. My heart bounces off of my ribs, I cannot do this again. 

  After what feels like ages of walking through the woods, he finally stops walking but he doesn’t let go of me. 

  “OK, Sloane, I’ll go get the body, you start digging.” He uses his free hand and forcefully shoves a shovel into mine. He releases my arm, an almost bruised looking ring around it and nudges me forward. Without loosing sight of me, he slowly steps twoard an old bus. He kneels down for a moment, and them tugs the body out of the bus by its arms, headed straight toward me. I shriek, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a dead body. But this one is different, there are odvious stab wounds to the man’s chest and bruised marks all over his skin. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I shutter, slowly stepping back from him. 

  “I-I can’t do this…” He drops the man, and locks eyes with me. I want to run, I need to run, I know where this is gonna go. But I can’t. He steps toward me, 

  “Sloane you’re shaking, come here.” I shake my head, stumbling over my own feet and the shovel I’m clutching so tightly with my hands. 

  “Get the fuck away from me,” I mumble, a tear slipping down my cheek. He instead fills the spacebetween us, landing just inches away from me.

  “Don’t make me hurt you,” he whispers, his hot breath bouncing off my skin. Keeping eye contact he rips the shovel from my shaking hands and steps away beggining to dig. “You are no help Sloane, you never really have been.” 

  I glare at the man for a moment, his lifeless eyes still. I do not want to end up like him. I turn, letting my body carry me as fast and far as it can. My legs moving in long even strides. I look back, but Danny isn’t digging anymore, he’s got his arm extended toward me. And he’s holding a gun. My heart falls to my toes. 

  The air is filled with a deafening clap of what sounds like thunder, but I know that’s not what it is. The bullet strikes my back, splattering blood all over the ground around me as I fall. A sharp pain radiates through my body until it slowly becomes numb, but I can’t get up, my body really won’t allow it. 

  I let my head fall back, angling it to face Danny. But he’s not where he was moment ago. There is nobody but a mutalated body. A hand rolls me over.

  _Damn…_ _     _“Sloane,” he quivers, “look what you made me do.” Using both hands, wraps them around my neck, and stratles over me. My head begins pounding and everything starts becoming fuzzy and dark. I reach an arm out trying to push him off of me, but he swats it. I feel the ground for something, anything at all. My hand grazes something hard. A rock. I pick it up and with all of my energy, swing it at his head. He rolls off of me, whaling on the ground. I rise slightly, warm blood trickling down my thighs. He stands much quicker than I can and shoves me down. I let out an ear peircing scream and try to roll away as he aims his gun directly at me. He pins my down with his legs, the blood from where I stroke him falling onto me. He pulls the trigger, but I don’t feel anything at all. And everything becomes darker and darker.