He was going to freak out so I had to make him pass out and forget. When the police came, I had already got Jack's back. We couldn't have him in prison, could we? For the first time since I took him, I left his vessel. It was the only way that I could sort out this mess. He wasn't experienced yet. I removed all of the prints from the gun, placing it into Wade's hand. Luckily, due to Jack's shaking hand, the gun shot looks like it could possibly be self inflicted. If all went wrong, I could wipe the cops memories. Nothing was really beyond me, I can do pretty much anything I like. It suddenly came to my realisation that if Jack regained consciousness he would be free. I re-entered her body and awoke him.
When I re-awoke, the scene looked different. Wade had the gun in his own hand to make it look like a suicide. I had a massive headache like I'd been hit over the head. My pocket was vibrating. Mark.
"Is everything okay Jack?" Mark asked, sounding concerned but I could hear Bob playing Barbie Girl and laughing in the background. I was silent. What the fuck should I say?
"There's been a bit of an incident..." I muttered, looking at Wade's seeping wound.
"What do you mean? Where are you?" He sounded more concerned now. "Jack, what happened, are you okay?" I could hear him shuffling and Barbie Girl stopped.
"Jack?! Please speak to me okay? Where's Wade?" I just burst out into tears.
"Have you called the cops?" He was rushing around the house now. "JACK" He yelled. I was just sobbing hysterically.
"Jack, please. Tell me where you are" He asked calmly. I regained my composure.
"We're down the alleyway near the pizza shop"
"Well that narrows its down a bit..." I could hear them getting into the car. Bob was driving. I heard him ask where we were going and Mark briefly told him.
"Which one Jacky?" He was speaking calmly still. I looked around. They all looked the fucking same.
"Two... away?" I said hesitatingly.
"Keep me on the phone" Mark asked and I kept looking around, my eyes scanning Wade periodically. The bleeding from his head was slowing and the blood on the wall behind him had ceased the dripping down. Why couldn't I remember what happened? All I can remember is that... something changed.
"Jacky, have you called the cops yet?" Mark asked, snapping me back.
"No"
"Do you want me to?" I heard a car pass at the end of the alley.
"Jack? Keep talking to me please"
"Sorry Mark..."
Not long after, Mark and Bob arrived. When Mark explained to me after, he said that I was sitting with my knees up to my chin and rocking back and forward. They took me away for hospitalisation again. Apparently witnessing a suicide completely messed up my head. But it wasn't a suicide, I knew that. I was a murderer.
