The sound of gunshots echoed through the building, rebels identifying themselves and their cruel purpose, and bodies thudding to the floor as bullets ripped through them. Rosalie watched from behind the stage, cowering in fear as even her father’s body fell to the floor, his lungs gasping for breaths. She wondered for a moment why he never seemed to die. But, she didn’t run to him. Instead, she ran to the doors, pulling and pulling until she grew exhausted from crying, falling to her knees when she realized they wouldn’t open. “Please… please… help me get the door open. I can’t breathe! I think I’m going to die, I can’t… I don’t want to die yet! Please! I haven’t done anything wrong! I’ll do anything you want!”
Anax knew something was going on, but he didn’t care. He had already asked Abigail to the dance, which she had agreed to. She could always say no, but he really hoped that she would still go with him. And when it came to Abigail, he was nothing if not optimistic.
With a single long stemmed black rose in his hand and being cleaned up and ready for the dance, he walked to her room and knocked on her door. Really, he didn’t even know if she still wanted to go, or if the effects of the craziness was still affecting her if it ever affected her, but he hadn’t seen her in a while and really, he didn’t even know if her flowers made it to her.
But he was done being nervous and hiding. Granted, hiding and staying out of sight was what he had been doing for over two thousand years, but when it came to these matters, hiding was never a good thing. And he had put it off long enough anyway. It was time to get things either sorted out and go with his girlfriend or go observe in a corner with his powers on to the max.
He knocked on her door and took a step back. He didn’t know whether to keep the rose in front of him or hide it behind his back. But then again, that was silly. So he just waited for her to come out, not knowing if he would get rejected or have a date.
Are you okay? Someone blurry-looking asked, peering at Igby. “I’m good.” He managed to mutter unconvincingly. The correct answer to the question asked was was totallydrunk, but it wasn’t any of their business anyway. The truth was he’d pregamed with an entire night’s worth of booze earlier and brought along a lot more just in case. It had actually seemed pretty prudent when he discovered the punch smelled like detergent, but presently he was reconsidering his choices.