Alison sank into the chair at her desk, her light structure collapsing in on itself with obvious tiredness. With shaking hands she placed the gun, heavy with guilt, in the bottom drawer at her feet. Her eyes were glazed over as she looked back to what had taken place a mere half hour ago, and she flinched when a punch on the locked door rattled sharply in hers ears.
“Alison! It’s me Miranda, open the door,” Miranda bellowed in a breathless manner. She knocked two more times and Alison, in fear that Miranda would break down the door, made her way over and unlocked it.
Miranda strolled over to Alison’s bed and placed herself in the centre. She was the exact opposite to Alison; she had uncontrollable blonde hair that was cut to the top of her neck, she was lightly tanned, had piercing and fierce blue eyes that could make an eagle cower, and had a tall, intimidating frame with the personality to match. Alison on the other hand had dark brown hair in neat little curls that formed naturally at the bottom. She had dull green eyes, and her skin was an unhealthy white which never tanned. The fact that she was just a little smaller than most her own age brought out her vulnerability and fragile state which she had developed since the death of her parents.
“What happened, Alison?” Miranda persisted with apparent impatience. She guided Alison to sit next to her when she noticed her rocking, imbalanced on her own feet.
“There...they came back,” Alison whispered, her dry throat limiting the ability at which she could talk. “Only two this time, I managed to run one off, but the other one caught up and –“
“You killed him?” Miranda interrupted, and when Alison nodded slightly, she continued; “how?”
Alison pointed to the bottom drawer of her desk. Miranda passed the space in one swift movement and yanked open the drawer. “Where’d you get this?” she asked Alison, beginning to sound vaguely fascinated. “Alison! It’s me Miranda, open the door,” Miranda bellowed in a breathless manner. She knocked two more times and Alison, in fear that Miranda would break down the door, made her way over and unlocked it.
Miranda strolled over to Alison’s bed and placed herself in the centre. She was the exact opposite to Alison; she had uncontrollable blonde hair that was cut to the top of her neck, she was lightly tanned, had piercing and fierce blue eyes that could make an eagle cower, and had a tall, intimidating frame with the personality to match. Alison on the other hand had dark brown hair in neat little curls that formed naturally at the bottom. She had dull green eyes, and her skin was an unhealthy white which never tanned. The fact that she was just a little smaller than most her own age brought out her vulnerability and fragile state which she had developed since the death of her parents.
“What happened, Alison?” Miranda persisted with apparent impatience. She guided Alison to sit next to her when she noticed her rocking, imbalanced on her own feet.
“There...they came back,” Alison whispered, her dry throat limiting the ability at which she could talk. “Only two this time, I managed to run one off, but the other one caught up and –“
“You killed him?” Miranda interrupted, and when Alison nodded slightly, she continued; “how?”
“I’ve had it for a while...Jago thought I’d need it one day...” Alison responded, and Miranda noticed she sounded a little more animated.
“I should probably respect him a little more, he has some sense,” Miranda said stubbornly, as if the words were not meant to be formed from her mouth.
Alison vaguely smiled as her mind wondered from the daunting topic, for she had developed a switch in her brain; once she had moved topic from these life-death situations, no emotion would come to her when next recalling. She was suddenly relieved, yet remained weary after the adrenaline rush.
“I need sleep…” Alison explained before declining to her pillows.
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