This Is England » Freddie Highmore

24.

"I HAVE CALLED YOU ALL to talk about what happened last night," I spoke in front of the podium, my eyes lurking out for anyone not paying attention.

"It has come to point now where Vinnie and his fucking pussy ass gang have invaded our territory. I am fucking tired of them trying to take what's ours. What's ours is this country.

"This is England, damn it!" I slammed my fist against the wooden surface; my jaw clenching at the amount of rage inside of my body. "I will not have those bastards take our independence!"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Harold typing away on his phone, and that's when I took him by the collar of his shirt, pinning him once again to the wall with a gun pointed to his head.

"You're fucking lucky I let you back in here, you bitch." I pushed the weapon against his head. "Because I don't deal with faggets like you---always fucking up everything.

"What do you think I should do, boys?" I turned to Jake, Max, Luke and the rest of the group, my grip tightening on his shirt. "Should I let poor, helpless Harold live, or should I blow his brains out?"

No one answered, so what I did was the unthinkable---I pulled the trigger, my right hand contaminated with crimson-red bloodstains. Seeing Harold on the floor, lifeless with his eyelids open gave my heart a pang of disbelief, but it had to be done.

"Who's next?" I snapped, pulling the gun in the air. Everyone shook; biting their lips nervously.

"Listen to me you fuckin' punks," I walked towards the front of the group, my nostrils flaring with anger. "We are going to start a war with these pussies and I am telling you this now because we deserve to run the streets of London; we deserve the money we get just by selling pot and Coke.

"Lads," I pulled out my switchblade, "we are going to make sure no one forgets us."

With that, everyone began to plan out this war, and how we were going to do it.

-

"Amelia, just listen to me! I was--"

"I don't want to fucking hear it, Freddie!" she slammed the door behind her, leaving me to stand there, dumbfounded.

I groaned, grabbing a hold of the doorknob as I walked after her.

"Amelia, get back here damn it!" I grabbed her wrist, making her face me. What I saw were tears falling down her face. 

My heart broke into two, and all I could think about was how big of an asshole I am.

I attempted to cup her tear-stained face, but instead I got slapped.

"Don't ever talk to me again, Freddie. I fucking hate you." she got out of my hold, and with a slam to her bedroom door, she left me alone.

I marched to the door, knocking endlessly.

"Come on, Amelia, open up." I pleaded. "Amelia!" my knocks began to grow louder; my anger boiling.

"Damn it, open the door!"

To my surprise the door opened. There she stood with her jaw clenched, eyes red and puffy.

"Are you happy now?" she choked out, "I opened the fucking door." she then walked back into her room, me following behind.

She sat on the bed; her back facing me. Hearing her cry broke my heart to shreds, and what's worse is that I had caused those tears.

"Amelia, darling," I sighed, wrapping my arms around her. "I'm sorry. I was drunk, and I. . ."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it," she said bitterly. "You may have been drunk, but you were also high when you told me you needed me."

She shook her head, "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"You don't know what to believe?" I asked bitterly. "I turned down many girls for you, Amelia. I saved your life. You don't think I care? Well I do, damn it."

"You obviously didn't the other night." she retorted.

"Damn it Amelia!" I slammed my fist on my leg, preventing myself from hitting her.

"You are one difficult girl, you are problably the most difficult being I've ever met. But, that's the thing---I don't care.

"I," --I brought my thumb to her face; stroking it lightly.

"I love you."

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