a/n- hey friends! it's been so long, i'm sorry. it's been extremely hectic and i know thats the typical author excuse for when a story isn't updated in a while but i promise that i really am not joking- it's been a seriously stressful past couple days. this isn't even too long of a chapter so im sorry about that but i still think it's kind of interesting tbh! i'm going to start improving my schedule again, and i'll get to work on chapter twelve asap! :-)

i love you guys, thank you for sticking with me.

stay happy, 

x bri. 

-

[ cara ] 

I took in a large breath before tossing the pill into my mouth, picking up the glass from the countertop of the island and swallowing a large gulp of water to help the pill go down smoothly. 

It was gross, and slightly depressing. Which was an ironic thought, to be honest, considering these were antidepressants. 

In all honesty, I didn't think they were necessary. I didn't feel like I needed them to be happier, to ease the anxiety. Personally, I thought that I could do that on my own. All I needed was the right mindset, and the right people around me. I'd dealt with the anxiety for so long up until the night of the dream and I was positive that if I tried, I'd surely be able to get it back under control again. But my parents had already paid for the pills, which weren't refundable, and spent a petrifying amount of money- there really wasn't any going back now.

I didn't want to disappoint them.

I exhaled loudly and deeply, sinking deeper into the seat of the kitchen bar stool, shutting my eyes for a moment. It wasn't like I'd felt any of the pill's crazy kick-ins or whatever, but it was all insanely surreal when you thought about it- the dream, the pills, the anxiety attack, the feeling of not being able to breathe- it made lumps in my throat form. A cold, freshly-manicured hand getting placed on top of mine pulled me out of my thoughts. "Feeling alright?" 

I pressed my lips into a thin, small smile for my Mom's sake. "Fine. Great. Um, thank you guys again for.. you know,"

She smiled warmly at me, her eyes a silent apology. Ever since the dream, all my Mom had done was apologize to me, claiming that "as a mother, she should'e known." I didn't mind, really- I found it all kind of endearing. It only hurt because of the fact that unlike Mom, Dad hadn't really done anything to show he even gave a shit about any of this- other than pull out his wallet and pay for my meds, of course. 

But his face didn't twitch in concern when Dr. Williams concluded that I had a general anxiety disorder. He didn't ask me if I was okay after that, but God forbid he forget to ask about the price of the antidepressants. 

"I'm glad," Dad cleared his throat, eyeing me from across the kitchen island, shutting his laptop lid. I fought the urge to roll my eyes- he was doing work at 9 in the morning instead of consuming the most important meal of the day, inspiring. "but I think we do need to talk about the fact that you snuck out the other night, El- even after I told you to stay in your room. We tried cal-"

"Mark," Mom's tone was sharp and annoyed as she glowered at her husband from across the island. "she just had an anxiety attack. Get off of her back."

"What she did wasn't right, Marissa." 

"That's not what's important at the moment, incase you haven't noticed!" She suddenly rose her voice, shooting up from her bar stool and making her way over to him. I sat back in my seat, pretty shocked to say the least. Overall, I loved my Mom, and I knew that my mom loved me. But it'd been while since I'd heard her raise her voice at Dad, or raise her voice in general. Whenever it did happen, though, even people in South Africa were scared shitless. "Do you not understand that this is your kid?! Cara is at a rough place at the moment, Mark, we all are. It's insensitive of you as a Father to penalize her right now!" 

Dad ran his hands across his face, the worry-lines on his forehead becoming more prominent."I understand that, stop making me seem like I'm a terrible Father! I'm not, I'm the one paying for her antidepressants!" 

"You?" Mom scoffed, her eyebrows shooting up. "Why are you making it seem like it's just you handing in money? Have you forgotten that I work my ass off too?! I'm not just some first-lady-wife who sits back and lets you take the wheel, Mark, I actually run my own campaigns and businesses and-"

"I get what you're saying, Mar, I do, that isn't what I meant, I just believe that regardless of what happened a few hours ago, it's still important I bring it up to Cara that-"

"Forget that she snuck out, will you? What's important is that you fix yourself, Mark. You're acting ignorant, and self-absorbed, and I can practically smell your ego burning. It's making me nauseous."

I shrunk in my seat a little, not wanting to say anything to spark anything further in the heat of their moment. I couldn't tell if my Mom was defending me, or herself at this point. I couldn't tell if my Dad cared about the cost of those pills more, or the cost of my mental stability. I couldn't tell whether whether they were screaming at each other over me, or over something else anymore. My parents were happy people, don't get me wrong, the idea of them actually divorcing is just out of the picture, in my opinion. But they hardly fought. So whenever fights between them did happen to break out, the entire atmosphere of the room shifts completely. Nobody really knows how to react.

A buzzing against my butt suddenly sent me out of my daze, and it took me a little bit of time to recompose myself before I realized that my phone was currently vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. I slid my fingers into the pocket and grasped the iPhone, pulling it out. 

ONE TEXT. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

1645 HOLLOWDELLE STREET

BLUE BUILDING. SECOND FLOOR.

HELP ME.

-ELENA.

-

"Okay, Cara, just stay in the car, let them do their-"

Emma hadn't even put her car into a full park before I swung the door open and hobbled out of the passenger seat, towards the main entrance of the blue building. The walls were covered in swamp-green vines and dead flowers and the landscaping was pure crap. Police and FBI agents in cop cars and black vans parked not too long after, following me towards the entrance. Mom and Dad had emerged from their car to follow in everyone else's lead. Nobody talked- everybody knew what the objective was. Find Elena, and leave, I told myself, Find Elena, and leave.

I jogged faster towards the garage opening of the building- it looked like it was an abandoned factory that hadn't been put to good use in over a couple years. I could smell the scent of ashes and something burning and just oldness from the inside of the garage, but no part of me could care less- this was it. We'd found her. Find Elena, and leave.

"Miss Morales!" 

I swung my head around and glared at the FBI officer who was glowering at me from a couple feet away, his eyes signaling me to stop in my tracks. Once he'd made it closer to me, he brought his hands up to my shoulders to push me aside, rather fricking roughly, may I add. I gasped at the sudden aggression and contact. "You're not allowed beyond here, ma'am, I'm sorry." 

"Cara, stay here!" Dad suddenly yelled with narrowed eyes, before pushing past me with my Mom's hand clutched tightly in his. The two of them made a run for the inside of the building. 

I bit the inside of my lip. I had to follow them inside, I had to. It was all my mind was telling me to do. Find Elena, and leave. I peered over the officer's shoulder at Emma who was pacing in front of her car nervously, her fingers pulling at the ends of her hair. 

The corners of my lips twitched at the sudden idea I had forming.

I gasped loudly and covered my hand with my mouth. "Emma! You're going to crash the officer's car, hit the damn brakes!" 

I was no Jennifer Lawrence, no, but by the way the officer's eyebrows shot up and his head swiveled around to get a glimpse of what I claimed was going down- I could definitely be at J.Law's level. Call me Katniss. 

Quickly, I made a run for it and picked my feet off the ground, stumbling into the building and past a few hallways, just trying to get as far away from the officers as possible. Find Elena, and leave. My eyes darted around the room frantically in search of a set of stairs. I sighed aloud in relief at the sight of a flight of steps in the back of the large room I was standing in, and made my way up to the second floor. "Elena?!" Nothing.

I grunted, "Elena!" 

Silence.

I entangled one of my hands in my hair and bit the corner of my lip, running around in various directions across the floor- there was nothing. It really was an abandoned factory. The entire room was filled with hundreds of empty boxes and machines and tables - I couldn't find Elena anywhere. I was having a hard time believing that she still hadn't been found, though. The factory overall wasn't enormously huge, and we had a pretty large amount of people on our team searching for El. I beginning to consider pulling my phone out again to text the number, maybe she somehow had ahold of the phone and could tell me where in the factory she was? 

And then I totally heard it- it was faint, but it was there. It was like the sound of rustling coming from my back. I swiveled around and cautiously eyed the stack of boxes behind me, biting my tongue. Had someone been moving the boxes? I mean, I was pretty positive there wasn't anyone else up here on the floor with me. 

I cursed loudly at the sound of the rustling again, this time louder. It didn't take me long at all to realize that it was coming from one of the smaller rooms to my back right- maybe what used to be a faculty room or something? I picked my feet up once again and ran straight towards the room, my lips parting to call out Elena's name. Instead, all that came out was a gasp. 

In front of me was what looked to be like an old fashioned projector, casting an image upon the back wall that had my entire body shaking. I blinked immensely, not knowing how to react- everything seemed to freeze. Nothing seemed real at this point.

Projected on the wall was a picture of Elena, knocked out cold against a wall and stripped naked with the exception of her bra and underwear. Red streaks were covering her entire body and I refused to believe that they were lines of blood regardless of the bruises spread all over her body as well that may just have emitted the damn blood. If I didn't have any type of optimism in me, I would've thought she was dead. 

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the projection, every breath leaving my lips trembling and shaking. My eyes eventually darted to the corner of the wall, though, where a piece of paper had been taped up. Slowly, like if I move too quickly I would cause an earthquake, I approached the wall and slowly peeled the paper off. I wasn't able to do anything to stop the sob that left me once I read the words scribbled across the lines of the paper in black marker.

STOP LOOKING, OR NEXT TIME I'LL DO WORSE.