Not going to lie...I feel a lot better going into the final scene without being the main target. Now that I'm pretty sure I haven't been the main objective in the serial killer's plans, maybe I actually won't die. I don't know about you, but not dying seems pretty nice right about now.

With lots of my help, Kellin settled on buying a dark blue chiffon tank-top, light-washed jeans, and Toms for the party. The whole time, Grayson trailed us. In his wake, he left behind a trail of fallen items and spilt drinks. The guy just can't keep himself together. But I'll be the first to admit that it's nice having Desk Guy around while the rest of us are all wound up with anticipation of tonight. I've tried my best not to think about it too much, but what can you do when almost all of your friends and family have been murdered in cold blood within a month?

It's funny that I had been hoping this would all come to an end, but I don't think there was an actual part of my mind that expected it to stop. The bloodshed seemed like it would be eternally continual; like nothing could get in its way and nothing could finish it off. And even though I've gathered all the little breadcrumbs of clues and stories about akilling motive, I've yet to pinpoint an actual killer. I mean maybe I should just say who I think it is now: I think it might be Adriano. 

Adriano Santiago had always kind of been there but never directly involved with us. But then again, maybe that's because being involved with us means dying. I suppose that's a plausible reason for keeping us at a distance. Also, not to mention the fact that rather than being sullen over death at his party, Adriano got more hyped about everything. That's doesn't scream "normal" to be, but hell, what do I know? My dad is dead and I have yet to shed a tear. 

But sigh, something with Adriano being a killer doesn't add up. There's no relation to Enzo or Aero or any of the Kings (that I know of). And last I checked, Rio wasn't around us 15 years ago...unless this is one of those stupid "brother of my aunt's nephew's boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's son" stories. God, if this is one of those, then kill me now.

Actually, don't. If you're the killer and you're reading this: don't kill me. That would be great, thanks.

 Normally, Maren would've had a good idea about who the killers are, but her idea was that it was Enzo and me. So I don't think that's very accurate...obviously. Honestly, I don't see any of us being the killers. Sure, that's what they all say, but I'm dead serious. 

 Again, at the killer, I'm not literally "dead" serious...I'm still alive. Please keep me that way, I would appreciate it. 

For the party, I'm not even bothering to dress up that much. I'll just wear some close-toed shoes, a tank, and some shorts. I'll probably be running around for my life, anyways. And as for weapons go, because I'd have to be all kinds of stupid not to bring any with me, I'll resort to the crowbar. I made a terrible mistake and awful memory with that thing –but maybe killing the killers will override the negativity with positivity. If you count killing positive... 

A long time ago, my mother used to say that no one deserved to die. She would say that people should be punished for their crimes, but we should never wish death on them. Back then, I agreed wholeheartedly. But also back then, I don't think I knew I'd be involved as a victim in the killing spree of Solaris. 

Now, I want these sick, murderous, disgusting fuckers to go down.

And you know what the scary thing about all of this is?

I'm sure they're saying the same thing about us, too.