I'm super bored, so i wrote the next chapter. Like i said, this story is not going to be long at all. i'm already working on another story that i like a lot better. hope you guys enjoy :)

     The blood drained from my face. The back of my neck was wet with sweat. That blood had to be fake.

“Ok, you got me. Come on out.” I said shakily. Nothing moved. I started hyper ventilating. This couldn’t be happening, this can’t be happening. I kept telling myself that it was all fake. What did that note say again? Get a disposable cell phone. Why would I need a disposable cell phone? Wait, I remember something from all those crime drama shows that I love watching. You can’t track a disposable cell phone with a GPS.

     There’s money in the pickle jar. I looked inside the fridge. Sure enough there was an empty jar with a huge wad of cash in it. On the outside of the wad was a $100 bill. My eyes grew larger by the second as I unraveled the real wad of cash, 100 after 100 kept appearing. $5,000 I counted. The bills were crisp, and smelt fresh.

     I didn’t know what to do. I sat on the bed and sobbed. “COME OUT!!!!” I screamed. Nothing moved. I cried myself to sleep

     When I woke up the next day, the sun hit off the dried blood on the ceiling. It’s real. Now that it was light out I could see a couple holes in the wall. Sorry about the mess, your parents are fighters. Tears streaked down my face. I walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My face was blotchy and red from crying. I couldn’t look at myself. Rage entered my soul.

      I punched he mirror as hard as I could. The glass shards fell and it cut my legs. “Crap” it stung the only way glass could. It was bleeding pretty bad. I grabbed a towel and tried to stop it, but it wouldn’t. It must’ve cut a big vein. I grabbed the list, the wad of cash, got dressed, and got into my car. I drove silently to the hospital with a bloody towel wrapped around my ankle.

     The hospital parking lot was almost empty. What time was it? I got my cell phone out of my purse. 8:59. It was early. I limped into the hospital. Immediately my nose was filled with the smell of latex gloves and antiseptic. My stomached turned, I hate hospitals.

     The lady at the front desk was young. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a bun, and she was tapping her pencil to the beat of a made up song.

“Excuse me? Can I get some help” I asked and looked down at my bloody ankle.

“Sure. Let me get the doctor.” She said warily. Her hands started shaking. She picked up a gray phone, typed some numbers and said.

“Doctor Higgsby to the front desk please.” She hung up and escorted me to a hospital bed. I sat down on the clean linen. There was another patient next to me. He was moaning in agony.

     A couple of minutes later a tall handsome doctor walked up. He had black hair, olive skin, and the cutest smile I have ever seen.

“Hi, my name is Dr. William Higgsby. What seems to be the problem.” He looked down at my ankle.

“Ah, I see. What happened?” He said as he unwrapped my towel. I winced when he tried to pull a glass shard out. I quickly thought a story up.

“I was taking a mirror I bought into my room. When I put the mirror on the wall, it fell. It broke on my foot.” I explained.

“Let me go get some disinfectant. I’ll be right back.”

He walked off. I heard scuffling in the bed next to me. A sweaty man stepped from out behind the curtain. The women at the desk was gone.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“You didn’t follow the list.” He smiled and straightened.

“Excuse m…?”  He took a pillow cover from beside the bed and slipped it over my head. I tried to scream, but he hit me over the head with something hard.

“You didn’t follow the list, so I’m going to kill your parents.”

A few tears escaped my eyes, and then everything went dark.