Living Death.
 part 08 // FabStories
     Arielle stared at me with a wild look in her blue eyes. Then she bursted out laughing, sputtering out a, "I can't believe you actually think that!"
     I glare and cross my arms across my chest. "You think about it, Arielle. We're not friends anymore, and he might have some grudge against me or something. He must've planned this out carefully, claiming he had something important to do, which was kill me on my birthday! It all makes sense!"
     She stops laughing and a grim expression clouds her face. "You're right. It does make sense. But he couldn't do that! He's much too kind and nice!"
     "I have an idea," Derek says, speaking up, "Since we're stuck on the day of your death, we might as well snoop around Drew's house to see what he was up to."
     "One more thing. If your father didn't kill you, how come he killed me? I don't think I did anything wrong. And why was he working with Drew, if he was the murderer?" Arielle asks, as we start down my driveway to my car.
     We get in, me driving and Arielle in the passenger seat. Drew relaxes in the back by himself. I keep my eyes on the road and clench my teeth tightly, while my fingers squeeze the steering wheel hard so my knuckles turn white. Arielle has a good point, I think.
     "Clarisse? Did you hear me?"
     "Uh, yeah. Just organizing my thoughts. To be honest, I don't think Drew killed me anymore..." I mumble.
     I hear Derek sigh. Arielle throws her arms up in the air, exasperated. "Then why are we going to his house?"
     I frown. "...There's always a possibility."
     We stop our conversation and arrive at Drew's home fairly quickly. It's a modern type, with lots of glass windows and white walls. Since no one can hear or see us, we simply open the door and slip in. The TV is turned on, and Drew's father lays sprawled on the sofa, an open bag of potato chips on the coffee table in front of him. We shrug to each other and continue to Drew's bedroom.
     I push open the door and see strands of Drew's dark blonde hair poking out from under his blanket. I yank it off of him, revealing his snoring figure. I study his face for a while, then turn to the others.
     "Well...?" Derek asks, rocking back and forth on his feet.
     "Well what?" I ask, prodding the objects in Drew's room.
     "Anything suspicious?" Arielle fills in for him.
     I glance around the room and shake my head. "No."
     We hear loud noises coming from downstairs, so we turn to leave. Drew bolts upright in bed, eyes wide with fright. He rises up frantically, as if he's noticed us. But instead he runs downstairs, feet pounding against the carpet furiously.
     "We better go," Derek says, slipping an arm around my waist and rushing me down the stairs.
     My heart skips a beat when my skin brushed against his, tingles spreading throughout my body. But I have no time to savor the moment, I have to find my killer.
     We race to the kitchen, where we find Drew in front of his father, begging him for something. The father ignores him and gets out his gun, checking the number of bullets he has. My mind goes blank while I study the gun.
     "Don't kill her! Please!" Drew says, yanking on his father's hands.
     "You know that girl's daddy? The one who's taking on the girl's friend? He promised to pay me if I did this. And we need the money, ya gotta admit that," the father says, clearing talking about Arielle and I. 
     "Money doesn't need to cause a death!" Drew exclaims.
     The father snickers. "It doesn't? Well, get used to it causing anything."
     Then he turns his heel and exits the house, getting ready to go to the hotel ready to kill me.
     ---
Hee hee. xD
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