ryan's poisonous garden

6

After a few hours of me laying on my bed waiting for Ryan to eat the food, I finally heard some weird sounds coming from the kitchen. I hopped up and took a deep breath before opening my door, revealing Ryan throwing up in the trash can.

"Ryan, ohmygosh, what's wrong?" I gasped, rushing over to his side. I didn't know what else to do, so I just rubbed his back.

"It's okay." I whispered, trying my best to act confused.

It's not okay.

He stopped shortly after, sitting down to catch his breath. I grabbed him a towel to wipe his mouth with and awkwardly sat down next to him, waiting for him to tell me something.

Finally, he speaks. "I must have food poisoning."

"What food did you eat?" I ask, seeing if he'll lie to me again.

"Oh.. just some random thing I found in the fridge." He lies, turning his head away from me.

"Well, if you really are sick, you should get some rest. It's 9:00 anyways."

"I guess you're right." He agrees, standing up from his spot. He walks to his bedroom and shuts the door, not saying another word.

He didn't even say goodnight.

This whole situation was making my head hurt, did he really not like me anymore? That conversation felt so fake, i've never talked to him like that.

I leaned against one of the counters, rubbing my head. Just a few days ago, everything was normal, me and Ryan were best friends.

... Like best friends. He had been faking everything this whole time. He only wanted me dead.

My gaze landed the steak knife we had used a few days ago, still unwashed.

End him. Before he can end you.

I stood up, walking over to the counter to where the knife was. I picked it up, sliding my finger over the dull side of the knife. I brought it over to the sink, putting soap on a washcloth to wash it off.

Kill him. This knife is perfect. You aren't doing anything wrong, you're only protecting yourself. Adam won't be back in time to save you.

I dried off the knife, holding it up to where I could see my reflection in it.

It's the only way.

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I waited on the couch a bit, the knife tightly in my grip. My knees were bouncing up and down like crazy, my heart racing faster than it ever had before.

I'm about to do something horrible.

I check the clock. It's 11:28, two minutes until I go into his room. I promised myself I would do it at 11:30 so I wouldn't delay it the whole night.

I fiddled with the knife in my hand, and before I knew it, it was time. I stood up and walked to his door, holding my hand over the doorknob.

Am I really about to do this?

I am.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I swung the door open and walked over to his bed, where he was sleeping.

What do I do first?

I pulled the bed covers off of him.

Do I just stab him in the chest and run off?

Without warning, Ryan shot up from his bed and saw me, standing over him with a knife.

"Jack?"

This was a bad idea.