Tbh I didn't think all the relationship drama in this book would distract people from reading the foreshadowing and intense flashbacks XD

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Evan woke up, his head aching and Craig lightly shaking him.

"Evan! Please, tell me you're okay." He begged, seeing that his brother was awake.

"What happened? Am I on the floor?" Evan was discombobulated, not able to remember anything before he passed out.

"Yes, you are. Evan, do you really not remember what happened?"

"Uh, well, you were out, and I was in here, but I forgot what I was doing."

As Evan sat up, Craig saw that he was still shaking a bit, and he was breathing just a bit faster than usual. He cautiously scooted closer.

"Evan, are you okay?" He lightly touched his arm, causing him to flinch slightly, but he didn't freak out, it just took him a bit longer to relax about the touch.

"I-I think so?" Evan tried to stand, using the table as a grip, and once he stood he saw the empty bottle, and everything came rushing back.

"Evan!" Craig said as Evan began to freak out, backing away from the bottle. "Hey, hey, calm down, everything is fine."

"It's not, it's really not, Craig. You know what I did, but I didn't mean to! I was just so sick of everything!"

"Evan, its fine, really, I don't blame you, I'll clean it up, just go upstairs and relax please. Can you do that for me?" Craig brought Evan into a small, but slow hug, allowing Evan to relax once he touched him.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess I can do that." Leaving the kitchen, Craig listened as he heard Evan climb the stairs and go into his room, closing the door.

"I'm going to kill him." He growled to himself. "I'm going to kill that cheating fuck for whatever he did to Evan."

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He flinched, unable to control it as he sat down at the table next to Craig. Luckily, no one else was there.

"You didn't have to come, I know you must be feeling way off." Craig said, looking at Evan sympathetically.

He shook his head. "No, I can't let it get to me. If I let it get to me, then I'm letting it win."

"Yeah, but I'm sure you need a cool down or something-"

"I'm fine." Evan insisted, his arms crossed on the table angrily. Still, he wasn't wearing his black hoodie.

---

Jonathan sat down. Again, Evan flinched, unable to help it. Suddenly the idea of resetting himself didn't seem so appealing.

Unfortunately, the entire table noticed. Especially since it wasn't as subtle as usual.

"Evan? Are you ok-"

"I'm fucking fine. I swear the next person who asks me that is going to get stabbed in the throat, I don't care who it is." Evan snapped, not knowing where the attitude had come from, but he still wasn't in the mood for this.

No one else said anything about it, and they went back to their usual conversation.

But knowing Evan's luck, that wasn't the end of that dreadful question.

Because within a few moments, Luke had come sauntering up behind them, and Evan had his head down so he didn't notice until he felt his body brush his back. He flinched for the third time.

"Whoa, dude. You go-" Evan didn't honestly think he would snap, but something about hearing Luke's voice just got to him.

He punched him. Hard. In the throat. And damn, did it feel good. He thought his eyes flashed for a second, but he didn't care.

He stormed out of the cafeteria without another word.

----------

He jabbed at his friends shoulder, catching his attention as he pointed to the sidewalk. "Look! It's one of the guardians! And he's alone!" His voice was eager and excited.

"Excellent. Come on." They hopped out of the car, and the teenager had yet to notice them. He was too busy angrily kicking rocks in his way.

His friend held up three fingers, then two after a second, and instead of holding up one, he jumped, knocking the teenager to the ground.

"Hey! Get your fucking hands off me!" He growled, kicking at the two and trying to get them off, but they held him down.

"Get the tranquilizer!" His friend barked at him as he wrapped his arms tightly around the teen's chest.

He ran over to the van, picking up the syringe off the seat as well as the wet cloth they prepared.

"Here." He said, noticing that his friend had put his hand over the teen's mouth to shut him up. He was still struggling.

Jabbing the syringe into the teen's arm, he let out a muffled scream of pain as his movements slowed. Since he wasn't human, the liquid wouldn't knock him out, but it would calm him down.

Handing the cloth to his friend, he removed his hand for a second and replaced it with the cloth. Within a few moments, the teen's eyes closed and his body slumped over as he went unconscious. His friend smiled.

"Throw him in the back."

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Craig: Yo Ev, you coming back? If not, I'll meet you at home

Craig: Evan you're not at home where are you

Craig: Evan you're not even reading these wtf

Craig: Evan don't do this again

Craig: Evan it's been hours please tell me you're okay

----

Craig: GUYS HELP ME PLEASE

Craig: THIS IS SERIOUS YOU FUCKTARDS BETTER ANSWER ME I SWEAR

Tyler: what? What's so important?

Marcel: yeah what is it IM SLEEPING

Craig: Evan hasn't come home yet and I'm scared

Brian: aww did you have a nightmare? Does Craig need someone to hold him

Craig: Bitch I will end you in a heartbeat fucking try me I dare you

Craig: Evan is legitimately gone and all of you are making jokes I don't appreciate this

Craig: If sleep is more important, then don't text at all

Tyler: sorry, babe

Marcel: sorry

Brian: sorry about that

Jonathan: what's this about Evan missing

Craig: he hasn't come home yet and I'm worried

Jonathan: someone's triggered

Craig: shut the fuck up, or I will come to your house and rip out your intestines one by one

Craig: and unlike you, when I say I'm gonna show up, I'm actually gonna show up

Jonathan: does everyone know about that?

Marcel: know about what I smell drama

Craig: when they were still dating, Jonathan stood Evan up

Brian: you've got some fucking nerve, Jonathan

Jonathan: why are we talking about me all of a sudden I thought Evan was missing and Craig's freaking out because he thinks he can't take care of himself

Craig: if you must know, you inconsiderate shithead

Craig: I'm worried because lately Evan hasn't been acting normally

Craig: not like you would've noticed, you're too busy being a slut

Tyler: alright, everyone just calm down. Craig, please explain

Craig: fine, but I'm only telling you guys this just so you'll understand how serious this is

Craig: a couple days ago, I went out with Tyler, and Evan was at home

Craig: but when I got home, the house was dead silent, which isn't normal

Craig: so long story short, I found Evan passed out in the kitchen with an empty bottle of vodka

Craig: and before anyone says anything, that is a big fucking deal, alcohol really messes with him and I'm really scared about what happened to him

Tyler: holy shit, a whole bottle? Even though just the smell of it makes him lightheaded?

Craig: I wonder who I could blame for that....

Jonathan: don't bring me into this

Brock: well, if it's your fault, you don't get a choice

Brian: ^^^

Tyler: look Craig, just give it a few more hours, if he's not there tomorrow, then proceed to freak out

Craig: you guys are no help

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The ground was cold, and for a second I felt like I was five again and hiding in the bathroom, until I realized that I'm a teenager and I've most likely been kidnapped. And they obviously know I'm not a human.

I tried to move, but there was clattering whenever I moved my ankles or wrists, and I discovered that there were chains, probably to make sure I didn't go anywhere. Smart, these people did their research.

What will Craig think happened to me? Will he think I died? What happens if I do? What was the last thing I said to him, 'I'm fine'? Because right now, I'm the opposite of fine.

I'm freaked out, I'm panicked, I'm scared, and I'm not in control. Granted, I haven't felt in control for a few days now, but now it really hits me, the fact that this could be my home for the next few days until these guys decide to kill me for whatever reason.

What are they? Creature hunters? Because I'm sure I'll be quite a specimen.

But, they're not human, at least, they don't act human. They had tranquilizers to slow my movement and chloroform to finish me off, they must be something.

I heard a noise, but instead of snapping my head towards it, I shut my eyes and slowed my breathing once more, trying to trick him.

It was hard to stay calm, this guy reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and my breathing was begging to increase its speed. Seriously, my chest physically hurt since I was preventing it.

Drinking that vodka was a bad idea.

His footsteps sounded drunk and lopsided, and I could tell they stopped outside my cell.

He was whistling a song, it was soft and subtle, but noticeable enough, and the longer he stood there whistling it, the crazier it made me.

Then he began to sing. "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling down, my fair lady." He whistled a tune again before going to the second verse.

"Take a key and lock him up, lock him up, lock him up, take a key and lock him up, my fair lady." He altered the lyrics, most likely for me.

"Torture him and make him starve, make him starve, make him starve, torture him and make him starve, my fair lady." It got a bit more twisted, and I slowly began to realize I was doomed, not like the kind of doomed where a girl gets in trouble and she knows in her heart her true love will save her, but the real kind. The kind you get when you're on death row, or eating your last meal, you know, when you know that you'll be dead in a matter of seconds, minutes, hours, days.

You just get a feeling, this rushed, panicking feeling that makes you think you're invincible, that you're the smartest person on planet earth. And you think, maybe, maybe I can do this, maybe I can live to say 'I love you' to my family once more, maybe I can live to fall in love and be happy and have a normal life. But it's wrong, that feeling, that blissful, heroic feeling, is wrong.

Because you know you're not gonna make it, and you have to decide if you're really ready to die.

I wonder if my parents got that feeling, when they picked up those bottles, did a part of them know it would be their last drink together? That earlier that morning would be the last time they saw their son? Did they know that? I like to think that they didn't, because it makes everything easier, to know that they didn't do it on purpose, not even try to live another day, to want to die without ever telling me that they loved me. It was easier, but I felt like it was a lie.

And when you feel something, really feel something, there's not a doubt in your head about it.

"Cut him up and watch him bleed, watch him bleed, watch him bleed, cut him up and watch him bleed, my fair lady."

I wanted to shake, but I stayed put, this guy must know I'm awake by now, he's messing with me.

"Watch the life drain from his eyes, from his eyes, from his eyes, watch the life drain from his eyes, my fair lady."

His footsteps began to turn away from my cell, and I could tell he was twirling a set of keys from the noise it made. But he was still whistling.

"Oh, this boy will surely die, surely die, surely die, oh, this boy will surely die, my, fair, lady."