I held the box of noodles in my hand and a fork in the other. I snapped the chopsticks because I hated those, they were annoying. I walked up the stairs leisurely. There was a door at the end of the corridor. Is that Little Miss Kill Me I Don't Fucking Care's room? I walk towards it opening the door which was closed.

I walked in. It looked like a typical teenage girl's room; the walls were painted a light pink, there was a desk stacked piles with books, a dresser that had a can of body spray and a couple of bottles of perfume on, the wardrobe was half opened with clothes falling out and the bedsheets were a floral print. The curtains were drawn closed.

I'd never been inside an actual girl's room before; I had a little sister but her room was way different. She was only a little kid. But this is like, a woman's room. After a while, though, I got used to being in there an sat myself on the unmade bed. I'd finished the noodles and tried throwing it join the bin from where I was. Luckily, it went in.

I lie down on my back, looking up at the ceiling. A few hours left and she'd come. That bitch had some explaining to do.

**********

Evelyn's POV

Walking home today felt weird. It felt like that psycho from yesterday would pop up any moment with a chainsaw or something. Normal people would have stopped walking alone and find a safer option, like taking a car, walking with friends or asking a parent to pick them up. And I did nothing. I didn't even report the guy. I'm not a snitch.

It was getting darker, so I began to walk a little faster. I didn't know what I'd do when I'd arrive at home. Homework? Watch TV? Or maybe...No. I promised myself I wouldn't.

Even I can't trust myself

**********

Ash's POV

She was taking so fucking long. Out of boredom I started reading the books on her desk, and trust me, I am not a fan of reading. It was some classic, Pride and Prejudice. I read halfway through the first sentence before putting it down again. Boring. I rummaged through her shelves some more; more classics, the Harry Potter books, the Hunger Games trilogy and Fifty shades of Grey?!

I pick up the book. Oh, so that's the kind of girl she is...

I throw the book on the bed and sit back down. I check my watch one more time and make a mental note not to check it again otherwise I'd break it. And it's a new watch. Stolen, obviously, but I wouldn't really call taking it from a body that you killed yourself stealing. I don't know, is it stealing? 'Cause I sure as hell don't think so.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. My therapist says I have anger issues and whenever I get angry I should just take deep breaths. Like that ever helped anyone because it doesn't help me at all. Gladly its not me paying for my treatment or all this therapy would be a fucking waste of money. Its not like you can duct tape broken glass and say its fixed. When it's broken, it's gone. And its not ever going to be the same unless you accept that it's broken, that it can't be fixed. I can't be fixed and I wish those motherfuckers would just accept that.

Evelyn's POV

It didn't take that long until I finally got back home. It was dark already but at least I made it. I opened the door and as soon as I walk in it's freezing. Not that it wasn't cold outside but when you walk into a house you'd expect it to be warmer than outside. I figure mom must have forgot to pay the heating bill or something but when I walk in I see the glass garden door is wide open. Fuck.

I panic a little, hoping that my house didn't get burgled or anything but then I see the TV still in it's place so there might not have been a burglary. Maybe mom left it open.

Closing and locking the garden door again, I walk up the stairs to my room. My arms were itching, yes itching, and the only way to stop that itching was to scratch them with something sharp. I had to throw away all my blades because otherwise my mom would find them and the last thing I want to do is have a talk with her about 'suicide is wrong' and 'I think what you need is a doctor.' Two reasons I don't want that talk; One, it would be a really awkward and nerve wracking talk and two, that means I'd have to stop cutting. And I don't want that.

I know this makes no sense, but cutting keeps me alive. But only for so long. It tells me that yes, in fact I am alive and this pain is real. So real that I want to feel it again and again and again until there's nothing to feel anymore; when I'm dead. And even after that, I want to keep feeling this pain because pain is all I have now and its all I want.

My door is a few inches open which pisses me off because I told mom so many times that I want my door closed. I want to close it right now but remember I have to get in the room first. As soon as I enter the room, my eyes literally jump to the back of my head and out again; there is a man on my bed.

The first thing I do is not scream, but attack. I grab the nearest object, my school bag, and start beating him with it until he falls off my bed and that's when I start kicking him on the floor.

'Fuck!' He shouts 'Stop!! Stop, I'm not here to kill you! Stop!' I immediately recognize the voice as the guy that attacked me yesterday, but that doesn't give me any reason to stop so I keep kicking until suddenly, he grabs my ankle, twists it and pulls my down on the floor. He's panting and finally getting up. 'Jesus. Fucking. Christ.' He said, his breathing normal again. 'You crazy bitch!' He starts yelling 'Here I am waiting ten thousand fucking hours for you and as soon as you walk through the door you start beating me like a fucking animal!!'

'You broke into my house you you you...' I couldn't even think of a word to describe him then finally 'You pedo!!' He half looked offended and half looked amused.

'I'm not a pedo. I'm a stalker, yes. I'm a murderer, yes. But I am definitely not a pedo.' He sits down on my bed and looks down at me for a while until he finally says something again. 'How old are you?' He says, his hands together, resting on his knees.

'Why?' I ask instead of telling him 'that's none of your business'. He shrugs his shoulders and continues staring at me. 'Will you stop that?!' I yell at him, getting up to retrieve my phone. I'm calling my mom to tell her their's some weirdo in my room. Or maybe I should call the police. As soon as I get my phone out, he snatches it away from me and smashed on the floor. 'Hey!' I shout 'My mom bought me that! She's going to be mad now...' And he grabs my arm.

'You won't tell anyone I'm here, got it?' His eyes deadly as he let's my arm go again. 'Or I'll...'

'You'll what, drive a screwdriver through my head? Go on,' I say, picking up the pieces of my phone. 'You have to buy me a new one.'

'You can't tell me what to do bitch. I am a cold blooded murderer and I'll fucking rip you to shreds.' I laugh, placing the broken pieces on my desk. He gets pissed off by this and it only makes me laugh more.

'Why are you even here anyway?' I say, sitting gown on my desk, face turned away from him because I guess he can't really do anything to me. I start doing my homework.

'I want to know why you're not scared...'

'Of what, you?' I shake my pen because it stopped working.

'No. Well, yes and no. I wanna know why you're not scared of dying. I mean, all the people I kill, they die screaming. You were the first one that stayed quiet and I guess that kind of freaked me pout a bit. And thats why I followed you here, I want to know.'

'First answer my question,' I say, turning around to face him 'Why do you kill people?' I know this is a stupid question, something like asking a bird why it's a bird. And I'm asking a murderer why he murders.

'Simple. I find it fun, the same way you find reading this fun,' he holds up a book; Fifty Shades of Grey.

My cheeks turn red 'I swear I didn't buy it! It was a birthday gift from my uncle!'

'Some creepy uncle you have,' he snickers.

(A/N I know I haven't updated in a while, I'm sorry!! But here is this sort of alright but 100% shitty chapter. Please comment and vote!! Farewell until the next chapter I guess)