Blake

I grimace at the occasional pang that still throbs in my right leg. The thin sleeve that once belonged to my sweater is now sodden in my blood. I breathe heavily as I limp.

Ever since the creek came into view, thats all I needed to start sprinting. Sprinting off of pure motivation to get home. I'm close, I can feel it.

The sun has set and risen a couple times, but I don't know how long my sprint lasted. I hadn't even bothered to think of the time that lapsed. Two days maybe? However, my injured leg has hindered me from running anymore.

As I walked at a slower pace, the recent memories started to flood back. Tears spilled from my sleep deprived eyes. She's dead. Just like that. In a blink of an eye. So lightening quick.

It's almost like she knew she was going to die, if I give it thought. Before Jace came out, she handed me her one and only gun. Leaving her with nothing. She undid her necklace that Drew bought her and let it slip from her hands into her bag.

Or. Or maybe she wanted me to shoot him on sight. And I didn't. I was too far into a shocked and frightened state. If I just shot him on the spot, she'd still be alive.

Annalise is dead because of me. I stopped in my tracks, pondering it. My bottom lip quivered as my vision became distorted from my clouding tears. I sniffled, wiping them away. I leant my body against a nearby tree. Closing my eyes and letting my head rest against the rough bark of the trunk.

Oh my god, it's all my fault. I screwed up. And I can't fix it.

Feeling the sting in my leg, I reopened my eyes and rummaged in Anna's bag. She might have something to ease the inexorable pain. As my hand fished for a remedy, I found a medium sized camera covered in various sized scratches.

Stole it from Jace, I'm guessing.

I took it out of the bag and pressed the power button. Disappointingly, it didn't turn on. When I drop the camera back into the bag, it clanks up against what sounds like glass. I drew in my brows, finding a miniature bottle of vodka sitting at the very bottom.

Bingo.

I pulled out the bottle, letting Anna's bag fall to the floor as I examined the bottle. I unscrewed the the cap and let the strong alcoholic aroma shoot up my nostrils.

I then carefully removed the blood drenched piece of fabric from my leg, exposing my fairly fresh wound.

My heart thumped against my rib cage like drums. Taking another look at the bottle, I brung it to my lips and threw my head back. Letting the fiery alcohol slide down my throat. I scrunched my face and gave my head a tiny vigorous shake after my mini shot. I needed that, knowing what's coming next.

I let out a slow steady breath, mentally preparing myself. I can't let this get infected. I hovered the bottle over my stab and let the rest of its contents pour. I pinched my eyes closed and hissed at the intense burn.

Hm. It didn't sting as much as I anticipated.

Lowering myself to ground, I took Anna's bag in my lap. I took out my sweater and ripped off the remaining sleeve. I wrapped it around leg securely and slowly rose to my feet unsteadily.

With the straps of the bag scrunched in my clasped hand, I continued my journey. The autumn wind blew and the sun illuminated the sky. Giving the vibrant colored leaves a glimmer.

After walking a decent amount of time, I stopped. My eyes squinted and immediately my heart pounded rapid fire. I can't believe what I'm seeing. I blinked my eyes a few times to give myself reassurance that I'm not dreaming.

In the far distance, the back of my house can be seen. My house.

Without any further hesitation, I began to run. Sprint, I should say. I pumped my arms back and forth, to give me more momentum. I pushed my legs as far as they could go, despite my injured one. The wind slapped at my face and stale leaves crunched under my feet.

And then I made it.

I cupped hand over my mouth and let out a single sob, dropping to my knees in my backyard.

I'm out.

I'm finally free. I'm home.

Eagerly standing to my feet, I jogged to my front door with Anna's bag on my shoulder. No cars were parked in the drive way, indicating that my parents are at work and Blair is in school.

I attempt to twist open the knob to the front door. Though it doesn't come as a surprise that it's locked. I jog around to the back door. Locked. I sigh in frustration, running a hand through my hair.

"Well," I say to myself. "Time to break into my own house."

I took long strides back to the front entrance and picked up a large stone laying firmly in the dirt beneath the plants that grew. I swiped off the excess dirt and walked to the tall window that allowed the sunlight to spill into my formal living room.

Still looks the same. I smiled at the thought.

Doing a quick sweep of my surroundings, I made sure nobody was outside or strolling along the sidewalk. Taking a deep breath, I held the stone with a firm grip and pegged it at the window.

The rock shattered a jagged hole into the glass. It laid on the cherrywood floors inside, along with bestrewn pieces of the shattered glass.

I rose my uninjured leg and kicked at the hole in the glass, enlarging it enough for me to fit through.

Once I managed to cautiously step inside without getting cut, the feeling was so surreal. I let my bag rest on the floor near the now broken window.

Everything looks the same as I left it. The tidiness of the formal living room, the same fresh smell of air freshener.

I brushed my fingers up against any furniture I walked past. Taking everything in. Our single family portrait from a few years back adorned on the accent wall. The few modern paintings I've always disliked.

I walked up the stairs with my hand sliding up the smooth railing. I opened the door to my room. Everything was in it's place as it was six months ago. My pair of jeans sprawled on the floor near my bathroom. My tv remote lying in it's same position on my bed.

My bed.

I plopped myself on the plush mattress. The minute I did, I felt a huge wave of fatigue wash over me. I scrunched up a portion of my duvet bringing it to my nose. The same fresh linen smell made me smile.

When I get up, my head snaps to the window when I hear the faded sound of a door slam.

Blair

I slammed the door behind me with my shouldered phone. "Drew I'm fine. Stella and Peyton dropped me off not a pair of burglars," I gave them a wave as they pulled out of my driveway.

"I can't check up on you little Taylor?"

He calls me that one more time. . .

I rolled my eyes and sighed, swinging the chain of my key around my index finger. I stopped abruptly and furrowed my brows when I spotted a hole in my front window.

"Oh my god," My heart dropped.

"What?"

"Somebody broke in," I sounded as if I were in a trance.

"What? Call the police," Drew said firmly. I walked up to my front door, inserting the key into the keyhole.

"Blair call the police right now," He urged.

I walked in slowly, swiveling my head in every direction. "No. I can handle this," My breath caught in my throat when I saw a bag leant up against the wall of the shattered window.

I entered the kitchen, retrieving a cast iron skillet from the bottom cabinet.

"Are you crazy?" Drew said with incredulity. "Do you at least have something to defend yourself?"

"Do you think I'm dumb?" I spoke in a a hushed tone. "I've seen Tangled before."

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Would you shush!" I yell-whispered.

"Keep me on the line," He demanded. I had to admit that it made me melt knowing how much he cared.

With the cast iron skillet in a firm grasp, I searched every room downstairs, ready to knock the living daylights out of anyone who comes into view.

See. Disney movies can be educational.

"Nobody downstairs," I whispered into the phone, lowering the skillet at my side. Nothing even looks tampered with, strangely.

I make my way back to the kitchen to check if any of my mother's expensive appliances were taken.

Until Drew's deep authoritative voice comes through the line. "Check upstairs."

I spun back around. "Ok but it-" The skillet slips from my hands and my heart stops for a split second.

"Blair what was that?"

"Yeah, it's um n-nothing, I'm ok. I-I'll call you back," I managed to say, keeping my eyes trained ahead.

_____________________________

A/N > oh how I love cliffys 😆

so do you guys think it's Blake's fault that Annalise is dead or she sacrificed herself?

I hoped you like this one! I realized I have a lot of silent readers. If you are, please give a vote or comment, it'd mean a lot bc I am so so soooo close to 2K 🤗

Votes/Comments, are much appreciated xx

-kya h. ∞