JAYDEN
There’s the sound of something shattering, a scream and then complete silence.
“Freya." I hiss into the phone. I don’t hear anything back so I repeat her name once more, but still, nothing. “f**k!”
I slip my phone into my back pocket and even though I can now properly feel the effects of the vodka I chugged down a few minutes ago, I don’t let the blurry vision and semi-detachedness of being drunk stop me. I hurtle towards the door, shoving past party goers that watched me and Freya fight barely an hour ago. It's quite ironic that now I’m brushing past them, and rushing as quickly as possible in a bid to save her.
Some of them notice how frantic I seem, they pause and ask what’s wrong, but I just mutter something weak about an emergency and continue walking.
The memory of her
