The teenager had came into Irene's room to look at her windows again. "I saw a shadow among the bushes this morning," Irene told the boy. He kept silent, then drew the curtains. The room became darker in an instant. "Looks like the situation has become worse," he said, staring at the other window of Irene's room. "Don't get out of this room, whatever you hear or see," the teenager told her before closing the doors. Irene frowned. What was happening?
Irene drew the curtains of the other windows and sat on the bed. She drifted into sleep a minute later, falling horizontally onto the bed. The teenager opened the doors slowly, and stared at Irene. He covered her with his jacket, then silently went out of Irene's room.
A gunshot woke Irene up. She clutched the jacket on top of her, then tiptoed out of bed to the door. She was about to go out, until she remembered what the teenager had said to her later that morning. She sighed and turned around.
Suddenly, a gun was pointed towards her head. Irene froze instantly, afraid to move. "It's a wonder why Vincent had bothered to save you," a voice similar to the teenager's voice said. "After I killed your family." Irene's eyes widened with fear. "He did not kill my family?" she thought, shivering as she tried to sort out the features of the man beside her.
Irene kept quiet. She had heard the man fall, but she wasn't sure if he was unconsious. She breathed deeply, then ran out of her room for the first time in 4 years. She ran frantically until she tripped over something. She got up, looked behind her, and went pale. She was looking at the remains of a person that looked very similar with her father. Irene stepped back a step at a time, and screamed.
She saw the teenager rush over and cover her eyes. “It's alright," a warm voice whispered into her ear. Irene was still shivering when she felt the teenager pull her towards another room. He uncovered his eyes slowly, giving Irene time to calm down and forget what just happened. Irene opened her eyes slowly, looking at the teenager. "You didn't kill my family," she whispered. "No, I did not," he looked away. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked. The teenager hesitated for a second. "It was not necessary."
Irene observed the teenager slowly. He was covered in blood, his suit torn everywhere. There was a new scar on his face, and his eyes were not covered by his fringe as usual. "Are you alright now? We need to go," the teenager told her. Irene looked at the door. She turned back to face the teenager, then nodded her head.