Blood Bound

Chapter 10: Murder she committed

My heart sinks.

Sophie does not look the way she did when we parted ways earlier today. She looks so stricken with panic. Her sleek, raven hair is ruffled; there are claw marks on her cheeks that are slowly healing and she's constantly looking behind her back, like she's expecting another intruder to climb up my windowsill, cursing repeatedly under her breath. Then I notice the blood splatters on her shirt. Dark and glistening in the lamplight.

"Oh no," I whisper, horrified and take a few steps backwards in revulsion. "What did you do?!"

"Let me in," she urges me, her hands clutching the windowsill so hard that her knuckles turn white.

I give her my permission to enter, almost absent-mindedly as I study her features in shock. She climbs inside so quietly that a master burglar would have given her a standing ovation. Thankfully, the blood on her is not wet enough that it splatters on the floor. I sigh inwardly with relief. As soon as she's inside, Sophie starts pacing the room, continuing with the quiet curses.

"I should have known. I should have fucking known. . ."

"Sophie," I whisper, taking a careful step towards her. "Did you kill someone?"

She stops pacing and looks fearfully at me, I can actually see her lips trembling.

"I fucked up, Leia," she repeats in anguish.

I can feel my insides constrict, melting together and forming a huge rock that rests painfully deep down in my gut. I'm starting to feel agitated myself. Because I've never seen Sophie act this way before. In high school she was always so calm and collected, the cool bitch. I mean, sure, she gets pissed every now and then, but who doesn't? Now, she just looks like a paranoid madwoman, mumbling to herself. And she further proves my point when she grabs me by the shoulder and says urgently: "We have to get the fuck out of here!"

I blink and watch numbly as she spots my closet, opens it and begins rummaging through it. "We need to pack all the necessary stuff," she mumbles under her breath as she grabs some of my warmer clothes and puts them in a heap beside her.

"What's going on?" I ask dumbfounded as I kneel besides her. I cautiously take her hand but it's like I burned her or something as Sophie gasps and yanks her hand back, eyes glaring.

I try to be patient with her as I feel like she's acting just like me when I'm suffering one of my panic attacks. Despite the huge knot in my stomach and the ever-rising swell of anxiety threatening to spill over, I cannot let her see it. It would only make things worse.

"Sophie," I whisper softly. "I need to know what's happened. Can you please explain?"

Sophie's eyes dart back and forth, beads of sweat have appeared on her forehead and she's struggling to keep her composure. Her breath is ragged when she speaks: "I killed someone."

I nod towards the blood stains. "Yeah, the blood on your shirt kind of gave it away."

Even though my greatest urge is to grimace at the sight of the blood, I force myself to give her a small smile which she doesn't return. The blood only seems to remind her more strongly of the horrible deed and she continues to look for warmer clothes, her movements more panicked and erratic.

"Who did you kill?" I ask, fearing that she may have gone overboard this time and killed someone important, like the mayor's daughter or something.

She groans in frustration, grabs a handful of her hair in each hand and tugs on them. I'm afraid that she might rip chunks of her hair out, she's so agitated. Thankfully, she releases it and takes several gulps of air before she replies: