Aloha! Kia Ora! Bon jour! Coninchiwha!

How's it going?

I'm currently in my pyjamas and I don't even care what you think of me.

Carry on.

• • •

I touch the door with my fingertips, pushing gently. It creaks as if it disagrees with my decision to reveal what lays behind it. I already know what I will find, yet my feet move robotically, one foot in front of the other towards the inevitable truth. Lined up like Christmas stockings hanging from a glowing fireplace. Except it isn't a fireplace, and they aren't stockings, they're people. It's different than usual. Instead of just my mother, there are two new figures, one on either side of her. A boy and a girl. One tall and one short. All three of them are looking at the ground so I can't see their faces, or reveal their true identities. I back up until I hit the wall. I lean against it, hoping that it will swallow me up.

The head of the boy suddenly snaps up, and he tilts it to the side, revealing a small smile. I almost forget the rope necklace tied around his neck as I stare into the face of my baby brother. But then he opens his eyes, displaying two pits of complete darkness. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, but it is cut short by a quiet, sinister voice.

"No one will be there to hear you scream, just like you weren't there to hear me." His smile remains, but it no longer has any emotion behind it. The Cyrus I knew has dissolved into nothingness.

The other two figures slowly lift their heads in unison, tilting their heads to the side as if to imitate my brother. Their eyes are darker than death itself, and they are no longer my mother and my sister. Although their eyes have no pupils, I can tell they're looking at me.

"No one will be there to hear you scream," They say in a dark monotone.

'No," I whisper.

"No one will be there to hear you scream," they repeat. But they don't stop. They chant it again and again, the volume increasing with every word.

I cover my ears with my hands in attempt to drown out the relentless chanting. I slide down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest and scrunching my eyes shut as if shutting myself off from the world will make my problems disappear.

I scream.

My whole body shudders, and I am jolted awake. I sit up, trying to wipe the cold sweat from my forehead, but my hand won't stop shaking.

Noah stirs next to me, blearily rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie, standing up. "Go back to sleep."

He frowns at me, but rolls over, curling an arm under his head to act as a pillow. I wait until his eyes are closed before I leave the cave. Outside, the early morning sun reflects onto the water, making it look as though it's burning brilliant reds, oranges and golds.

It's already pleasantly warm, with the promise of a stifling hot day. There seems to be no relief from the sun here.

I walk to the waters edge, crouching down and cupping my hands, capturing some of the precious liquid, and splashing it over my face. It is cool and soothing, washing away the remnants of my nightmare. Looking back to the cave, I see that Noah is still sleeping peacefully. I look back to the water and at my hands. They are covered in dirt and blood. I don't know who the blood belongs to.

I quickly pull my shirt over my head, letting it drop to the ground. My pants and boots are the next to go, followed by the rest of my clothing. I shake my hair loose of its tight ponytail, taking a step into the water. It isn't shockingly cold, but it isn't exactly warm either. I begin to wade deeper into the water until it reaches just below my shoulders. I lean back, doing my best to scrub the dirt and grime out of my hair. Apparently I am successful, as a shadowy cloud emerges, floating around me. I scrub my entire body as best as I can, despite the fact that there is no soap, I still feel a lot cleaner.

I scrub my face one last time, turning around to head back to the bank, but someone is watching me.

"Jesus Christ, Noah!" I shriek, dipping lower in the water. "How long have you been sitting there?!"

"Relax Princess, I didn't see anything," he replies casually.

"Relax? You're really going to tell me to relax right now? I'm naked, standing in a pretty transparent pool of water, and you're staring at me. How am I supposed to relax?"

"I like looking at beautiful things," he shrugs as if that makes everything okay. Actually I probably would've found it cute if I wasn't so mad.

"Alright you poetic little shit, turn around." He makes this face of an innocent little cherub who should be naked on the top of a water fountain, but I won't fall for it. "You best believe that if you look, you'll never see the light of day again. Got it?"

"Don't worry Princess," he says as he slowly turns around. "I'm a gentleman."

I snort as I move towards shore. "Yeah, and I have a pet fairy called Garry who lives in my back pocket and occasionally sculpts clay."

"Does he sculpt clay in your back pocket? Because that could get a little messy," he replies, almost equalling my level of sarcasm.

I shoot him a glare, which I know he can't see, as I attempt to pull my pants and underwear on in one motion. It's way more difficult than it sounds, especially considering that my legs are wet due to the lack of towels around here. Eventually I am able to put get my pants to fit so that my butt is covered. That's the main idea right?

"Are you done yet?" Noah asks impatiently, tapping his foot on a rock.

"No. Just shut up and wait."

I hear him mutter about my bossiness under his breath, as my bra, surprisingly, goes on without a hitch.

What a proud moment.

My shirt, on the other hand, does not want to play ball. I am able to get my arms through the sleeves without any issues, but getting the rest of the shirt on proves more difficult. I cannot get it over my shoulders. There is just no way. The back is all twisted and sticking to my skin, while my arms are permanently stuck out horizontally, like a zombie. Well technically I was a zombie for a while back there, with the whole 'no pulse' thing.

I stand there, awkwardly wiggling my shoulders up and down in attempt to lever my shirt down. It doesn't work.

"Princess, are you done yet because I have pins and needles in both of my feet."

I sigh irritatedly. "Yes, well actually...no. Just turn around."

He turns around and makes a face of disbelief as he sees me. "How did you.." He trails off, shaking his head. "I'm not even going to ask." He walks behind me and gently pulls my shirt down. His hand brushes my skin in the process, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You okay?" He asks, clearly feeling me shiver.

I nod, coming up with a convincing lie. "I'm just...cold."

Yes, good lie, good lie.

"Well that's what you get for going swimming naked," he replies unsympathetically.

I smack his arm. He smacks me back.

"Ow," I exclaim, glaring at him. "What was that for?"

He looks at me as if it's obvious. "You just hit me, what did you think I was going to do? Gender equality right?"

I roll my eyes as he continues to talk. "So I was thinking-"

"Wow, that must be a new concept for you."

"Are you always this snarky?"

"Pretty much."

He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I was thinking that you should work on trying to control your healing power because I'm not always going to be there to grab your ass and make you angry."

"How exactly do you practice something like that?" I ask as we walk back towards the cave.

He shrugs, pulling a knife from is belt and flicking the blade with his thumb to make sure it's sharp.

I look from him to the knife suspiciously. "Noah, what are you doing?"

"Helping you." He replies, dragging the knife across each of his wrists. Two deep slashes are revealed, severing major arteries. Blood escapes, running down his hands and dripping off his fingertips on the grey stones.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, watching him in horror as he begins to stagger. I attempt to catch him but he weighs a lot more than I do, and he falls. It seems as though I'm watching it in slow motion. He hits the rocks and then doesn't move.

I gasp, crouching down next to him. I shake him. "Noah? Move or something God dammit!"

He remains still, so I press two fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. I sigh in relief as I find one, but blood still flows in a steady stream from both of his wrists. With adrenalin flooding my body, I find the strength to roll him onto his back. His eyes are closed, and a gash on his head suggests that he was knocked out by a rock to the head when he fell.

"Shit, shit, shit," I curse, grabbing his wrists. The blood is warm and sticky beneath my hands, but it isn't stopping. It continues to make a puddle on the rocks beneath us. Panic sets in and I struggle to realise what I'm doing wrong.

It suddenly hits me like a bolt of lightening. Anger.

Maybe it doesn't have to be something physical that makes me angry. Maybe it could be a thought or a memory. I try to think back to my old life, and the one thing that is seared into my brain is the voice of my stepfather. If you're not bleeding you're not trying hard enough, beat that time or I'll beat your brother.

I completely forget Noah, and without warning I am transported back to school. Back to the field. Back to hell. I can almost smell the polyurethane track and the freshly cut grass. My feet are bleeding, and my hands sting from falling over countless times, but he won't let me stop. I pant, falling painfully to my knees as heavy footsteps approach. "Why did you stop running?" He spits. I wouldn't dare to look him in the eyes. "I can't run anymore."

He looks at me with narrowed eyes. "What did you say?"

I cower, averting my eyes to the ground. "I can't."

He grips my shoulder, forcing me to my feet. "Clover, there is no such thing as can't."

For a brief amount of time I see a flicker of remorse behind those rage clouded eyes, but within a matter of moments it's gone. He gives me a shove causing me to stumble. When I look back, he's still standing there.

"Run!" He shrieks, spit flying from his mouth.

Movement under my hands snaps me out of the memory, and I open my eyes which I didn't realise I had closed. Noah's eyes are open, the gash on his head is still there, but when I remove my hands from his wrists, smooth skin is revealed. He lifts one of his hands to my face, wiping away a single tear. It wasn't a tear of sadness, it was a tear of fear. Fear of my past, my stepfather, and that Noah wouldn't wake up.

I look into his eyes as they study me curiously.

"Let me fix your head," I mutter, pressing my palm over his forehead. He winces initially but soon relief floods his face and he puts his hand on mine, removing it from his head. The gash is gone.

He sits up, not letting go of my hand. I let out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe easily.

"Don't ever do that to me again," I say, throwing my arms around him. He holds me comfortingly.

"Sorry Princess."

• • •

Hello again, back with another chapter.

Isn't Cloah cute?

I honestly can't wait to kill the next character in this book. Should we make a petition? I think we should. Let's call it...who should Ashley kill next? You can comment who you do or don't want to be killed and I might (but probably won't) take your opinions into account.

That's probably the best idea I've had all week.

Please vote, comment and follow.

Until next time.