stripper killer [matty healy]

thirty one - ending

ps; i listened to me by the 1975 (obviously) while writing this and i cried. i suggest you do the same! stick it on when you get to indias pov.

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ending:(noun) an end or final part of something.

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matty

i sat and watched from the kitchen as india draped the many trinkets across the tree, her face lighting up with every single one as it came together in front of her. the white lights were gleaming the whole way around and were reflecting of her face; making her look like something out of a fairy tale.

"what do you think?" she asks, peeking from around a branch at me when she notices my gaze.

i look her up and down, trying to ignore the fact that she was only wearing a big over sized christmas jumper, tiny shorts and knee highs. "i think it looks great."

her smile fades ever so slightly and she lets out a soft sigh. "whats wrong with you lately?" she moves from the tree over to the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter to me. "you've been acting strange, like, totally bi-polar."

"that's not true." i scoff reluctantly, not wanting to talk about this topic. "go and finish the tree." i shoo my hand at her.

her face twists into a frown and her arms fold across her chest, which (of course) had to make her jumper raise up. "not good enough, matty."

i furrow my brow as i lift my coffee to my lips trying to ignore the fact she was staring me down, but after several sips she's still looking, pissed as ever. "what?!" i snap, slamming my coffee down.

"tell me what's going on with you!" she wines, throwing her clenched fists down against her sides. "stop acting so nice, then turning into such a dick!"

i shake my head at her before looking at my lap. i really didn't want to do this. not again. "just leave me alone indie." i mumble.

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india

"just leave me alone indie." his voice is so low i can barely understand him, the fact his head is drooped doesn't help either.

"you're unreal!" i scream, making his head snap up. "what have i done? this is a never ending cycle with you! one minute you're great and the next you're un interested!" i didn't realise that i was throwing my hands around until i catch it on the counter, which really fucking hurt but no way was i going to show it. "you don't even care about me! do you?!" i hiss.

then, something in matty snapped and he jumped from his chair, his face was stone cold, i'd never seen anything like it. maybe if i'd had been paying more attention to him than screaming i would have noticed the fact that what i was saying was bubbling him up, that his hands were clutching his jeans trying to control himself from acting out and that if i carried on, any minute now he would no longer be in control of himself.

"fuck you bitch!" he roars, lunging at me. i panic and flee backwards colliding with the wall. "you wanna know why i'm so upset huh?!" his voice was booming through his chest as he approached me. "it's because everytime i do something nice for you and see that smile on your face and that remotely happy twinkle in your eye my brain goes into overdrive thinking about all the things we could do together, all the great times we could have, then, i receive a massive slap in the face from reality when i realise it's not going to be like that!" his lip trembles, but the screaming doesn't deminish, not a single bit. "i know you're going to leave her soon and never come back, and i'm probably going to go to prison and rot for the rest of my life, and you know what, i'm okay with that part, because that's what i deserve... but, you try and smile all the time when you know that after several days you are never going to see one of the only two people you have ever loved in this sick twisted fucking fucked up world, ever again."

i watch shaking as tears fall from his eyes. he was crying. i'd never in my life experienced the overwhelming pain in my chest that i was feeling now as i watched him come undone in front of me. watching him fall apart at the seems and pouring everything out. it takes a lot to make any man cry, nevermind a killer. i move my mouth to try and speak but he just lifts his hand to shush me.

"you know what india, just go." he whispers. "just leave. i can't stand you being here any longer knowing i'm waiting for potential hell. i'm going out, and when i come home, i want you gone. just get it over with." he walks to the door, tears still hot on his face as he grabs his coat and opens the door.

"matt-"

"oh, and incase you're wondering. the other person was my little brother. it's you and my brother, and that's all it will ever be." his eyes meet mine as he speaks, making the stab of the words even more painful.

i feel like i've had every ounce of oxygen knocked out of my lungs, like i had been knocked down and kicked repeatedly in the chest. i couldn't breathe; i was choking on air. the world felt like it was closing in and my vision was blurred and black spots were appearing all around me as i faded in and out of reality.

i reach my hand out to him as he stands in the doorway, but he just shakes his head and exits, leaving me to fight the panic attack and presumably, the rest of my life alone.

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{authors note}

so this chapter got me all kinds of emotionally unstable *cry*... also, if you have twitter, tweet me saying you read stripper killer and I'll give you an instant follow back and add you to the story list, so you can check for latest updates on the story and stuff! ily all .x