Caught up with the Bad Boy {COMPLETE!}

Chapter Thirty: I won't let go.

November 27th

When I was six one of my favorite teachers died.

His name was Mr. Johnson, he was my art teacher. This was before I moved next door to Greyson. When we were still living in our yellow house.

Mr. Johnson was old; he walked with a cane, he had grey thinning hair, and he kept a handkerchief in his pocket for whenever he would cough.

But I didn't care.

All of the other kids said he was mean, but I didn't think so. He was just eccentric.

He would always smile at me, and he said that I could draw the best damn rainbow out there.

I remember the moment I found out that he had passed away. My dad had woken me up. His face calm and caring. Dad was always caring.

"Good morning, Rosie Posie." He had said. I remember thinking it was odd that he was there. Mom was always the one that woke me up. Dad was always the one that would have the breakfast ready on the table, my cup of chocolate milk next to his cup of hot coffee.

I had rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. My voice was so tiny when I talked-so innocent, "where's mommy?"

He had smiled, "mommys downstairs with Willy. Rosie, I got to tell you something."

I didn't say anything, I just stared at him.

He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear and smiled at me. "You remember Willy's old rabbit?" I nodded, "do you remember how it got sick and we told you that it went to a better place?"

I remember my throat becoming dry and I didn't want another one of my friends to go. Even if it was to a better place.

"Sweety, this morning Mr. Johnson went to a better place."

I didn't realize until a few years later as to why my dad was the one to give us the bad news. He was just good at it.

Mom can't look in our eyes when she gives bad news. She stumbles over her words, and starts crying before she can even get the words out.

She didn't even talk when the police told us dad died.

***

I watch the words on the screen with wide eyes.

"Grand Hotel owner Thomas Black found murdered early this morning."

"Why do you have that face?"

My eyes snap to Greyson throwing on a shirt in the doorway of the bathroom.

Now I know how it felt to be mom. Not being able to find the words. Not being able to say the right things. Only being able to stand and watch as someone's life changes for the worst and you can't do anything to make it better.

Becoming so incredibly desperate for words that will never suffice.

My throat is swollen shut and the tears are already forming in my eyes.

The voice of the reporter speaks before I can even open my mouth. Changing everything with each word.

"Thomas Black found murdered with a gun shot to the head. Police investigating possible suspects."

That's when I see everything fall. When I see everything that is Greyson Black fall away.

His eyes blink slowly as his lips slightly part-nothing but breath and unspoken words coming out.

I slowly get up from my bed and take a cautious step towards him.

"Greys-"

"What did they just say?" He cuts me off.