Dear Universe, Up Yours!

Chapter 7

I immediately moved to the side, jerking my head down, then vomit heavily escaped my mouth, rottenly tasting the bitter, vulgar fluid. It was quick, though the taste was still on my tongue and the acid had abysmally burned my throat. I brought the end of my shirt and wiped my mouth, then stood back beside Gerard.

"I-I didn't m-mean t-to-" I began, eyes convulsively abiding on the barren corpse. "It-it was just that-that he was going to th-threaten y-you and we knew that he-he had a g-gun- and- FUCK! I'M GOING TO FUCKING PRISON, I JUST FUCKING MURDERED SOMEONE!"

"We," Gerard interrupted, unusually calmer than me, but still, of course, terrified.

"No, I did. I had the knife, I stabbed him, you didn't do anything. I killed him." I said firmly, panicking as the words came out of my mouth. I was confounded about why Gerard would deliberately pertain to the fault. That was not the main concern, though.

"No. It's us. We. We killed a guy, we could go to prison, unless we cover up our tracks," he argued. I looked at him, severely baffled. And how could he be so calm right now? "Look, I promised that I'd never leave or abandon you. We're in this together, so we murdered him."

I wanted to smile in appreciation, but I just couldn't even move right now. I couldn't feel anything but sheer trepidation. And what he said, doesn't change the fact that deep down, it was me, and I killed the man. I stabbed him and killed him and he is dead.

"We don't want to get caught," Gerard began, "So we've gotta cover up our tracks. One small thing, the cops could be on to us, and you'll be right, we will go to prison." How the fuck was he so composed right now.

I looked at the darkened blood saturated on his jacket and shirt, wearily dripping down. Then, I looked at my hand and my shirt. "We don't have extra clothes," I muttered, my bloodstained hand still twitching spastically.

"What?" Gerard asked, unable to hear me.

"We don't have fucking extra clothes, Gerard, and there's fucking blood everywhere!" I shouted frantically, massively panicking.

He shushed me frantically. "Keep it down!" he whisper-yelled, though I could sense his attempt to be gentle. "Look, just... Just breathe steadily, okay?" I looked at him in disbelief. Is he fucking joking? "Just-just breathe in," he says, inhaling, but I did so as well, "And out," we exhaled slowly at the same time. "In," he continued and I breathed in with him. "Out."

I didn't feel better about anything, but it calmed me down strictly to the point where I wouldn't yell anymore. I was still scared, still worried- FUCK! I JUST FUCKING KILLED A MAN! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I felt like crying. Honestly. Never in my 17 years of existence have I ever thought this would ever happen. It shouldn't have, I'm just a kid. I'm just a fucking kid. I should be at fucking home right now. How is this fucking happening right now.

"Hey-hey, look at me," Fuck, I really was crying. I did as he told and looked up at him with my watery eyes and blurry vision, blinking as more tears indolently streamed down. I didn't like being vulnerable like this in front of him. It was embarrassing. "It'll be okay. We-we'll-" He was going to cry too. His eyes watered until a tear actually came out. Fucking shit. He looked awful. I did this to him.

He brought me into a sudden hug, in which I hugged back. I never really got involved in much hugs, so it should've felt strange. But it was too necessary to feel anything else but ambiguity. Gerard's breaths were deplorably faltering and arrhythmic from weeping silently. The sounds that had lamentably left his mouth stabbed my heart. It's all my fucking fault. I should've just kicked the gun from the ground as far as possible, and pulled Gerard with me into the forest. Thinking back, there were so many ways we could've escaped that, and I did the most idiotic, the worst one.