A Dozen White Roses-Part 3

~Amie~

Tiny water droplets trickled down my back as I stepped out of the shower, the marble tiling cool under my bare feet. I could feel the chilly air wrapping around my body from the air conditioning. It felt nice compared to the steam from the shower. I moved over in front of my mirror and cleared a spot from the foggy mirror. I brushed my teeth getting rid of the gritty feeling they had from eating candy. As soon as Hannah and I had gotten back from Ryleigh's, we sat down and watched TV for a little bit. I couldn't stand the way my teeth felt after eating all that candy.
I ran my fingers through my red hair, catching tangles as I went. Every time I came to the end of one piece, it began to curl in an unruly matter. I never had liked my curls. Most of the people at my school didn't even know that I had curly hair because I would always make sure that it was perfectly straightened before I left the house. And, thankfully, unlike many people who have curly hair, my hair never frizzed with the humidity.
I picked my jeans up off the toilet seat and shoved my feet down into them, pulling them over my underwear. Then I pulled on my gray Warped Tour 2009 T-shirt. I slipped out of the bathroom into my room, which was now tinted with the late afternoon sunlight.
I heard "How Low" by Ludacris blaring downstairs, and guessed that it was Hannah's doing. Besides blues and classical music, I was pretty lenient with the music I listened to. Hannah hated rock and anything else that wasn't heavily related to rap.
I walked over to my drawers and grabbed a clean bra sliding it on underneath my shirt. Feeling extremely better, I hopped down the stairs and tiptoed into the living room where Hannah was sound asleep on the couch. I didn't understand how she fell asleep with the music being as loud as it was, but she seemed to sleep better when the music was turned up loud. Her room was partially soundproofed because of it. Her parents had finally gotten annoyed with it after she had refused to turn it down when they asked her to. I really never spent the night with her often, but when I did, I camped out on the couch.
The track switched over to a song that I didn't recognize, but it's beat dared to five me a migraine so I cut it off. Seconds later I heard Hannah mumble something. Not sure if she was awake or not, I whispered back to her. "What did you say?"
"Why did you turn the music off," she repeated, her eyes still closed.
I had forgotten that she and the music were pretty much linked while she was asleep. With the music on, it was like trying to wake the dead, but if you turned it down even in the slightest bit, it was as if a switch had been flipped. "Sorry, it was giving me a migraine. Besides," I added, "sleeping is for the night." I smiled at her when she opened her eyes to look over at me.
"Yeah, well. It's close enough to night and I'm exhausted," she stated, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. I tried to stifle a giggle. She had on of the worst bed heads I'd ever seen. She cut her eyes at me, knowing what I was thinking. She flipped her head over, pulling it into a messy ponytail.
"How long have I---" She cut off abruptly, and when I opened my mouth to say something, she held a finger up to her lips.
I was trying to figure out what she was doing, but then I heard it. Sirens. And they were close. We exchanged curious looks. Then she jumped up to run over to the window that sat at the front of my house and I followed. We pulled the curtains back just in time to see two police cars speed away.
"What the heck," I spoke mostly to myself. Hannah shrugged, watching the police jerk around one of the corners that lead to a different street.
"What are you doing?" Hannah inquired when I walked off. She must have heard the click of the dead bolt lock because I heard her say, "Oh."
I never locked my doors except for when I went to sleep, but I never really felt like I should have to lock my door. I lived in a secure neighborhood and the only people who didn't use the doorbell were my friends.
"You should probably go lock the back door, too," she suggested. I could tell that she was beginning to get scared.
I took the advice, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard the back door in the kitchen click shut. Hannah heard it too, a look of pure terror painted across her face. I mirrored the expression, my heart picking up a couple paces.
I quietly grabbed a bat out of the coat closet and Hannah, following my lead, plucked a hanger from the closet. I looked from her to the hanger, bewilderment pooling in my eyes. I don't think she really had pain attention to what she had grabbed. After seeing my expression, she placed it back in the closet and replaced it with a tennis racket.
We nodded to each other and I gripped the bat in my hands, ready to wing at any given moment with full force. I stood there trying to compose myself, and hoping that Hannah might step ahead. Crushing my hope, she nudged me forward and followed my exact footing. Together we dodged the loose floorboards, determined not to make a sudden noise. I cautiously poled my head around the opening leading into the kitchen.
My heartbeat had increased with every step, but when I made out the silhouette in the darkness, I felt it stop completely. The silhouette didn't make any abrupt movements. Noting that, I guessed the stranger was turned in the opposite direction.
I looked back at Hannah, whose face had turned white. She probably wished she could disappear, and I completely understood. I counted down from five in my head and with my fingers so that Hannah could see.
When I reached one, I sprinted toward the dark silhouette, my bat high in the air. As soon as Hannah cut the lights on, I sliced the bat through the air intending to knock out the unknown visitor. To my surprise, the stranger spun around and caught the bat in his hand. He snatched it out of my grasp, sending it flying to the floor. He twirled my around, locking his arm around my waist. He held me there as he dug in his pocket for something. I looked over at Hannah. Her gaze dropped to where the stranger had found the object he'd been searching for. I tilted my head down to see that he'd pulled a knife out. I didn't have any strength in me to scream and I didn't think Hannah did either.
"Obviously, I have a knife, and I'm not afraid to shed a little blood to keep you two quiet. So I suggest you don't test me," the deep voice warned. He directed his next words to Hannah who stood there petrified. "And you better not come at me with that thing, either." Despite his voice, the man sounded a little young to be a convict.
I didn't dare to move an inch, no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't use his knife.