Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I updated. Im sooo sorry!! Oh, and heads up, this is the very last chapter of the Handcuffs series. I'm not going to give into the reviews begging me to continue it again. So, yeah, last chapter. Very last one. Sorry. I'll be continuing it's sequel, Camp Counselors: Edward and Jacob.
"Whoa, there!" I breathed as I stared into the barrel of Miriam's shotgun. "You're . . . you're joking right? You're not really going to shoot that thing, are you??"
She loaded the chamber, giving me the impression that she's not joking.
"Miriam," Norman groaned, making my throbbing heart calm down in relief, knowing that he was going to stop this. "Now why do you gotta go around wastin' our bullets?" . . . um?
She aimed the gun down to speak to him. "Norman, quit your yappin'." She aimed the gun at my face again. Dang it.
"M-my dad's a cop!" I warned them, praying that it would influence their decision on whether or not to kill me.
Miriam chuckled and put her finger on the trigger. "We're havin' flesh tonight!" She told Norman happily.
My eyes widened, but Miriam just began laughing hysterically, and I heard Norman do the same.
"Ah, shucks, we're just joshin' ya!" Miriam told me between laughs. "We not gonna eat you! We're not cannon balls!"
I blinked, not sure if I should be relieved or not. She said that she's not going to eat me, but she didn't say that she wasn't going to shoot me.
"Uh . . ." I choked.
"Charlie, look!" I gasped helplessly as I stared at the small piece of metal bobbing in the same muddy water we were.
He thrashed his head around to see what I was staring at intently. "Get it, Edward!"
I reached for the key, only pushing it further down into the water. My eyebrows pulled together tightly as I sunk my head under as well to see it. It was now sinking on its own, down to the trash-filled, metal floor of this irrigation sewer.
I reached for it, but it was too low, if I grabbed it, then I would pull Charlie under and he would drown! Hmm ... I mean, No!
"Are you going to shoot me?" I whispered.
Miriam rolled her eyes. "No, I just want you to clean the gun."
A wave of relief swept over me. "Oh," I smiled. "Alright, I guess . . ."
"I was being elastic!"
"No," Norman growled. "That's the rubber band."
"Sarcastic?" I whispered.
Miriam glared at me. "Now don't you be putting words in my mouth."
"Sorry." My heart was beating so hard it actually began hurting, and my stench from the sewer now began to make my head hurt, and I was starting to see double.
"Wait," Norman began from behind me. "I have a idea."
I turned my head slightly to look at him.
"How 'bout," he began. "She helps us around da house? We won't kill her 'den."
I snapped my head back to Miriam, her wrinkled and dirty face looking contemplative. "Alrighty. Oh, tell me, where'd you get that fancy perfume of yours, girl? It smells like a thankgivin' dinna."
I winced. "Well . . ." a plan was formulating . . . "It's outside, the perfume. I'll show you."
Miriam's eyes widened in enthusiasm and practically ran out of the house, Norman and I followed.
The vent was overflowing, and some of the water was streaming out, but the current seemed to be becoming weaker.
"Okay," I started walking up to it. "Just dip your hands into that . . . magic water of youth and . . . riches . . . and you will smell like me . . . and . . . you will become young again . . . and money will rain from the ceiling."
Miriam snapped her head to be with eager eyes. "How 'bout one of those fancy boxes wit' movin' pictures?"
She nodded quickly.
"Yes, hundreds of TV's, and stereos, too."
She winced. "What in da world is a stereo?"
I rolled my eyes and looked back to the sewage. "Well anyways, if you want the magic waters to work, you cannot be carrying any firearms."
Norman and Miriam looked at me like I had snakes coming out of my ears. "My arms aint on fire!"
"YOU CAN'T BE CARRYING ANY GUNS!" I screamed, slightly impatient . . .
"Oh!" Miriam handed me the shotgun and stared back to the magic waters—I mean sewer. "Now, so I just touch it?"
I stared at the shot gun, my heart pulsing at jackhammer rate, worried. It was a loaded gun . . . I've never held a loaded gun before. Especially one as big as this. "Yeah . . . just touched it. In fact, close your eyes, get into the . . . vent of wealth . . . and turn around three times. You will get your TV's and stuff."
They smiled, jumped in, and began the spinning. "One, two . . ." they began in unison. "Uh . . ."
"Three . . ." I finished for them.
They did that extra spin and I bolted.
"Edward," Charlie began. "If we don't make it . . . tell Bella . . . I think she's stupid for liking you, and you look anorexic and you wear WAY too much cologne . . ."
I glanced at him. "We're not going to die, Charlie. Look, I see a way out!"
"Oh," he began, flustered. "Well scratch that earlier statement, then."
"Consider it scratched."
Meany . . .
"Oh I see it too!"
It was a small vent so this tank wouldn't fill up. I nodded at Charlie as a, "come on" and we began swimming under to get to it.
And on our way, I grabbed the key quickly and with my free hand, pulled the vent open and squeezed through. I began being pushed by the current of water now rushing through, but was stopped. Puzzled, I looked ahead. Charlie's butt was kind of stuck in the vent.
"Don't say a word." He groaned. "Get me out of here."
A small smile formed on my face. "Well," I chuckled. "This is what you get for calling me anorexic." I started pulling on his arms until he finally came out. It's funny, him finally bursting out reminded me of how a bullet get's out of a gun.
And soon, there was one last vent, with light shining through. I smiled a wide smile and banged it open and pulled through, Charlie following.
"Oh my god," I began, happy for my freedom, but anxious about Bella's. "What happened to . . ."
Suddenly, we saw Bella with a big hunky shotgun in her hands, sprinting away.
What happened to her?
THE END. THE VERY END.