What?!

She fell down onto her bed, tears falling down her cheeks as she realised that the last thing she and Katie had down were affirm how much they hated each other (being civilised was their game). To now learn that Katie was dead and Hayley could never apologise for the slanging matches, the bitter comments and the simple fact she hated her was going to drive her crazy.

She curled up in a ball against the corner, clinging to her teddy bear as she chipped the black nail varnish off her thumbnail. Who was out to get them? Who was inside her head? More importanly why were they inside her head? What the hell did they get out of it?

There was a knock at the door and looked over, tears blurring her vision (times like this she praised her allergy to cosmetics) and smiled as she saw Harrison. “You didn't have to come...” She whispered through her tears, running a hand over her face so that she could move her fringe out of the way. He moved over to her and cupped her cheek in his hand.
“I'd come running for you every time.” He whispered taking hold of her lips gently.
“I'm so lucky to have you.” She whispered back clinging to him as she felt more tears being released over the fact another one of her friends was dead.

She looked over at him, saw the hurt in his eyes (probably due to the fact this was the first time he'd seen her cry) “I'm sorry. You was meant to be going to a party tonight.”
“Who wants to go to a silly party when they're girlfriend is off having fun elsewhere?”
“Even that's not happening now.”
“Well come to my party. Take your mind off things.”

Hayley knew she should say no. Mourn a little over Katie's death. But it was no real loss to her. Katie detested her more than she detested... whatever it was she detested (okay, Hayley really was at the bottom but let's not go in that) and she found herself wanting to please Harrison. “I'd like that...”
“Go get your gladrags on.” She smiled as she stood up from her crouched position, kissing his cheek lightly.

***

Ellie sat on her bed, her pink laptop rested on her knee as she looked at the letter she had ust written. It blamed Hayley for the two murders. In her head it all made sense. Motive, reasoning, time... But could she really blame her friend? That one person who sat there and listened to her through thick and thin, understood what annoyed her (hey, they survived church together – that's an annoying thing). She looked at the open e-mail where she was going to post it to someone (anyone) just so it felt as if she cuold let it off her chest.

She pressed the backspace button.

And cried as she watched the message get deleted character by character.