Sometimes things happen. And sometimes we don't know why they happen. We live our lives as normally as possible and then out of nowhere - everything changes.

I've never been too great at controlling myself when I'm upset, but lately it's gotten worse. This thing happened. It all started with my best friend. She didn't do anything wrong, someone did wrong by her. So of course I stepped in and saved the day. Turns out I really didn't.

Turns out there's more to this than getting rid of her. She's just a piece of the puzzle. She's like the gas needed to start the fire. But guess who's standing in the middle of this metaphorical fire?

Yours truly.

Maybe if I learned to think things through, I wouldn't be in this position. I wouldn't have gotten my friends into this position. Oh well, too late to do anything about it now.

Acting off impulses can either save you, or kill you. In my case, I think it did a little bit of both.


6. Chapter 6

When I woke up, there was a throbbing pain in my head. There were bright lights shining in my eyes, and I squinted up at the ceiling. I took a deep breath and suddenly felt the pain in my stomach, my hand slowly reach up and I gripped where I had been shot.


“Kass?” It wasn’t until I heard his voice, did I realize Mason was sitting next to me, holding my free hand.


I turned and looked at him. That’s when I saw Owen next to him, and my parents at the end of my bed. Something was missing…


“Quinn… Quinn,” I muttered.


“Where’s Quinn?” I sat up straight and the monitor next to me started beeping.


“Honey, calm down,” my mom softly set a hand on my foot.


“You need to keep your heart rate down, it was already too high when Owen brought you in,” my mom said.


But I wasn’t really listening.


“Do you feel any better?” Mason asked me.


I was breathing heavy, and frustrated. I snapped my head and looked down at him. I pulled my hand away from his and grabbed it.


“What the hell is wrong with you people? I keep asking about Quinn and no one is answering me!” I raised my voice.


I could feel my hair in a messy mop around my head. My eyes were still burning, and I could feel the tear stains on my hot face. They all looked at each other.


“We’re worried about you right now,” Mason said quietly.


“Well I don’t know why. Quinn is my best friend and if I’m in the hospital there is no way in hell she wouldn’t be here. Aren’t you all concerned?” The monitor next to me hadn’t slowed down.


“You went out to find her. I just assumed you knew where she was,” Mason replied.


Then it hit me. It was like a brick wall had just fallen on me. I suddenly remembered what happened when I went to meet Quinn. She was with that guy, and tied up, and bruised, and crying… And he shot me.


“Oh my god, oh my god, we need to call the police!” I started reaching for the wires attached to my body and pulled them off.


“Kassidy, stop,” Mason grabbed my arms and his voice hardened.


“No you stop! Quinn is gone. I-I went out to meet her and some guy had grabbed her and tied her up, and she had these bruises on her arm, and-and she was screaming and crying and… He shot the house,” My eyes widened and I looked at Mason and my brother.


Then they turned and looked at each other.


“And after that, that’s when he shot me. He shot me and put Quinn in the car and drove away. She’s gone… I let him take her, oh my god…” More tears started spilling from my eyes.


“Kassidy, listen, I’ll call the police right now, promise me you’ll calm down?” My dad said.


I looked at him and took a deep breath. I knew my parents didn’t believe me, they probably thought the trauma to my head was making me see things. I nodded just to reassure everyone, but I wasn’t going to calm down. Quinn was gone, she was kidnapped, and I didn’t do shit about it.


It had been twelve hours. I was brought into the hospital at twelve forty five this morning, and it was currently twelve thirty six. I had a sharp pain in my head that I hadn’t noticed until after I calmed down and fell asleep again. Apparently I cut my head too, so it had been glued up, and there was a small band-aid type thing on my right temple. I was getting dressed, the smell of rubbing alcohol and medicine filled the room.


As I pulled my t-shirt on, I stopped and examined the purple bruise that was above my belly button. I ran my finger over it and winced. I finished pulling my shirt down just as someone knocked on the door.


“Come in,” I called.


I grabbed the brush off the nightstand and started running it through my long brown hair.


“Hey,” Owen said as he sat down in the chair across from me.


“Hi,” I muttered, looking down at his feet.


We didn’t talk for a few minutes. We just sat there, soaking up each other’s presence. 

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