FIORELLA BIANCHI
Benjamin and I walked slowly down the stairs, holding our guns steady and ready. I cannot believe I will be seeing my parents for the first time in many years. I will be seeing the same people who killed Jasmine twice, and literally, I am going to dare them to kill me for the third time.
Benjamin is right behind me, and we are both wearing gas masks so that we do not choke from the colour smoke like the Roche are doing now, but they will be okay; it is not real smoke anyway; it is just their minds tricking them into believing it is fire smoke, but I hope they do realise that no fire smoke has ever been yellow, red, pink, and green.
“Honey, do you think that someone is in the house right now?” I hear my mother asks. It is unclear yet, but we can hear by following thei
