Who He Is

fifteen

Jessa

Nothing can ever prepare you for the sight of death. It's gut wrenching and horrifying. It's something you think is natural until you see it up close and personal. It feels anything but natural, it feels wrong. Someone can be here one second and the next they can just be gone.

The silence that took place while I was crying in J's arms made me afraid, for I knew he was really dead. I took his life almost instantly with one single bullet. I thought for sure that I would miss as soon as I pulled the trigger, and I didn't know what I was aiming at exactly, I just knew it had to hit him.

He was going to kill J. I could tell by the way he started to wrap his arms around his head. The thought alone made bile rise in my throat, and as soon as I caught a glimpse of the blood that was slowly running down the hardwood floors next to us I found myself pushing J away and vomiting right next to him. He quickly held my hair back before it could fall into my vomit and caressing my back.

I was vomiting for what felt like forever, it just kept coming. My entire body was hot, and it felt like venom was coursing through my veins, burning like fire. It was guilt and sadness, for I thought I knew my father. I thought he was good. However, I used to think the same of J. He wasn't good either, he's killed a girl. I wanted to know the story so badly- but asking him a storm of questions after shooting my dad in the head wasn't exactly good timing.

I took a deep breath in after completely emptying my stomach and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Are you okay?" J asked as I was catching my breath.

"What do you think?" I croaked, not realizing I was crying until my voice betrayed me.

"Fuck." He whispered under his breath while lifting his hand from the hardwood that was covered in blood. His hand was soaked in it. He didn't seem too phased about it, he was just worried about me and I could see that. I appreciated that. However all I wanted to do in that moment was rewind time and do something different to change this horrible outcome, but I couldn't. This was real, and I'm in serious fucking trouble.

"Listen to me." J lifted my chin with his unbloodied hand, forcing me to meet his eye contact. His eyes were darker than usual and red around the corners from crying earlier when I had the gun pointed at them. He saw my pain and it hurt him to see it. I could see that he wanted me to shoot him instead, but I couldn't. My head kept reminding me of the time that he helped me under that bridge, and I  don't think I could've forgiven myself if I hurt him. I'll never forgive myself for doing this to my father either, but something felt different between the two of them. The only one I feared was the one with the bullet in his head.

"I'm not going to let you get in trouble for this. I promise you. If it comes down to it we say it's me, got it?" He asks while standing to his feet, holding my arms to keep me steady as I did the same.

I remained silent, for I found myself being too afraid to speak. The realization of what happened was sinking in deeper by the minute, and I instantly felt the need to vomit again. What if I did get caught?

"We have to get rid of him and clean up the mess." J said while rushing to the kitchen that was directly beside us. He used a towel to turn on the sink so he could wash the blood off of his hand, and everything he touched he used the same towel to grab it with so no finger prints could be found; if it came down to that..