Fear Ch. 2

"Jamie! Jamie, calm down!!"

I didn't really hear the words that were coming out of the bastard's mouth. All I know is, he was shaking me violently. Why wasn't he knifing me? Or shooting me? Or stabbing out my innards with a twisty, crazy straw?

"Jamie, calm down!"

And then I recognized the voice, slowly, and I stopped struggling.

But I did pull back my fist and slam it into his nose.

"Drake, you little bastard!" I shrieked, not even caring that I was screaming. My neighbor stood in front of me in the purple striped suit, clutching his nose. The injury bled into the paint on his mouth, making the hideous disguise even more grotesque than intended.

"What the hell, Jamie?

"What do you mean, 'What the hell?' You scared the shit out of me!" I cried. My voice cracked from shock and took a deep breath, looking up at him. I almost felt bad as he stood there, clutching his face, eyes watering in pain. What the hell had he been thinking?!

"I'm sorry," I whispered, unable to raise my voice any, "You just scared me. Here-" I produced a clean rag from the linen cabinet, "Clean it up."

He spent a moment wiping off his face before he said anything else.

"Nah, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have spooked you… and besides," he grinned devilishly, "I heard you on the phone with Mr. Hero. You sounded like a little girl."

I gave him a push, "What's with the clown get-up? I mean, I know your trying to improve your look, but don't you think this makes you look a little… fucked up?"

He snorted a laugh as we went into the kitchen. "Yeah, I found this suit in my attic. Thought I'd try it out. Surprised you didn't piss yourself."

"Shut up and rinse the crap off of your face." I said, rummaging around in the freezer for some ice cream.

I eased down a little, suddenly feeling like an idiot for getting so worked up. Of course it had only been one of his pranks. I should've been expecting it the second I'd hung up with Adrian.

In a moment, Drake looked like a normal 17-year-old boy again, even in the tacky suit. He flashed me a grin and my belly flip-flopped. He was actually sort of good looking when he wasn't acting like a dick.

"It's hot."

"Huh?" I blinked at him, pulling myself from my thoughts.

"The house? What, did the thermostat break or somethin?" he asked, but he was already leaving the kitchen to go fix the air.

I turned back to the freezer and pulled out a carton of cookies and cream ice cream, thankful that I had something sweet to distract me. I worked at the tab on top, fingers slipping. I reached for a fork to stab open the lid-

-and then looked up at the window. A loud tap had just rang through the kitchen, settling everything into an eerie silence. I peered through the window, only seeing the reflection of my face and the empty kitchen behind me.

And Drake, lying dead over the living room couch.