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Her eyes twinkle. “He did?”
“Yeah. You didn’t even need to do all this. You see, he actually broke up with me just before. Telling me I wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted you.”
She squeals and stands. She dances around the wooded area, with no care of the possible dead guy on the ground.
“So, what do you say you let me go? I’ll just disappear, and you two can live happily ever after!” I smile, like we’re two besties who just made a cute little pact to play nice.
She turns, smiling. Yes! I did it. She’s going to let me go.
“Not a chance, freakshow. I’d love to, but you see, your ugly face is all over campus now. Seems someone cares you’re missing. That’s a problem for me.”
“There is? Is it a good picture, at least? I was never good at school pictures. Senior year, I had—”
“Shut up!”
When a crazed sorority sister tells you to shut up, you do. I zip my lips. Time is running out. She’s quickly falling back into her mental zone. She starts pacing. She reaches for her purse, and when she pulls back, there’s a knife in her hands. “Um, what do you plan on doing with that?” I ask, feeling pretty fucking nervous.
“I need to get rid of you. But blood. He doesn’t like blood. I need to think.” She’s back to pacing. I’m back to panicking. I need to get out of this. I was a Girl Scout for seven embarrassing years, it had to have taught me better survival skills than how to start a damn fire or what berries not to eat. Think, Jensen!
Then it hits me.
“Hey, Sylvia, I have an idea.”
She turns to me, curious. “What’s that?”
It’s now or never.
“I get it. I have to die.” My eyes widen as she nods in agreement. God, fuckin’ nutso. “Yeah…um, so we know Damien doesn’t like blood, so you can’t get dirty. I have a great idea. How about we use some of that rope over there and maybe I hang myself? No blood. I’m dead, you live happily ever after.” That was the most morbid thing I’ve ever suggested. And creepiest, since Sylvia’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree.
“Oh, that is a fantastic idea!” She swings the knife, and I do a little dance in my chair, avoiding any too close lashings.
“So, how about I help you, and you help me?”
There goes that smile. “And how would I help you?”
“Well, you might need help making a noose. Girl Scout champion over here. If you grab that rope over there, I can help you, but you would need to untie my hands to do so.” She stares at me in question as we sit in limbo—this could be the moment my life may go on, or she sees through my lies and just stabs me and does another outfit change. What feels like forever passes before she finally speaks. “Okay, fine. But no funny business. Tie the noose, then it’s night-night for you.”
“Got it.” I nod.
Smiling, she walks behind me and starts cutting off the rope around my wrists. I wince a few times as she nicks me. Once I feel my hands are free, I bring them forward. The pain from being stuck in that position for so long is worse than the gash in my head. My muscles restrict, and the tingly feeling causes a wave of nausea.
“You better not get sick on me.”
“Nope. Not getting sick. Just gonna get up and grab that rope.” I feel the knife stick me in the back, and I yelp. “Ouch!”
“Try anything and you’re dead.”
“Yep. Got it.” I try to stand, but fall and meet the dirt. “Shit,” I groan. My legs are almost numb, not to mention the swelling in my ankle. I roll over and sit up. I guess trying to make a run for it is out of the question.
“Get up. I don’t have much time. Damien is probably wondering where I am.”
Same here. I hope. I laugh, not sure why. Maybe I’m losing it just like Sylvia already has. I use all my strength to lift my body and limp over to the rope. I have to step over Jake, which makes my skin crawl. I try not to cry, because even though he was a douche and on his way to Nutsoville alongside Sylvia, I wouldn’t want him dead.
Sylvia, on the other hand, skips over him with ease, keeping right on my tail. My nerves cause me to trip over my own two feet, and I fall again, cutting my knee on a rock. I moan at the pain, but Sylvia takes no pity on me.
“Get up. You’re stalling.” No, actually, I’m just trying to enjoy my last moments alive. I push off and get back to my feet. A few grueling steps later, and I’m down on the ground, grabbing the rope. “Now, do your thing. Then we can tie you up to a tree. You don’t mind also taking the blame for Jake, right? We’ll call it a love gone bad murder-suicide.” She giggles like a five-year-old child. I know if I don’t make a move soon, I may miss my opportunity. I wouldn’t put it past her to forget our plan and just start sawing my head off.
