Love

Chapter 72:

Charlie's P.O.V

This morning I woke up at 6:30 am, went for a big run, went to the gym, ran back home, ate breakfast and slept again. But right now I was walking to 43 Oakover Street, where the Mercedes Benz was waiting for me. I walk straight past the house, checking it out. It's 6:29 pm. I see a dark figure up ahead, his hood pulled over his head. I stop and wait for him to walk up to me. He stops in front of me and fist bumps me.

"Glad you came, you bring you gun?" He asks. I nod.

"I bring it everywhere." I tell him.

"Make sure you don't act suspicious, because police will randomly search your body." He chuckles. I laugh quietly and he hands me a thin metal rod.

"Break into that car." He says, casually. Now, usually if someone asked you to do that, you'd immediately say no, and walk away, but I knew James personally. He was my cousin, he killed his best friend because he wouldn't steal a car. I smirk and take the rod. I walk up to the gorgeous Mercedes Benz A 180 and check that it doesn't have an alarm. I see a small blue light flashing every 5 seconds. It's alarmed.

"Dude! It's alarmed!" I hiss. He nods and chuckles.

"I know, I've researched it, man, it's not that sensitive. Just be cautious." He tells me. I take a deep breath and slide the metal rod between the door handle and the car door. I take another deep breath and slam down on the rod. I don't hear it unlock, I don't hear anything else but the car alarm. I try yank the rod from the door handle but it's wedged. I hear James's faint voice, screaming to let it go and run. I let go of the rod and try running, but my jacket catches on the metal. I can't see because it's so dark. I try to pull my jacket off it, but I don't feel it come loose. I'm panicking, I reach for my gun and pull it out. I cock it and hold it in front of me in a threatening way, my finger hovering over the trigger.

"I'm outta here, man! You're on your own!" I hear James yell over the alarm. The alarm continues. The porch light comes on and a man comes out of the house to investigate the alarm. He's holding a cricket bat. He looks at me with wide-eyes, and runs at me, the bat poised above his head, about to strike me with it. I don't know what the fuck was running through my mind, but as the guy ran towards me, I pointed the gun towards him, closed my eyes, and my finger, that was hovering over the trigger, slammed down on the trigger. The man stopped in mid-run and dropped the bat, he clutched his stomach and blood trickles over his fingers and drops onto the ground in sploshes. He falls to his knees and then onto his face, his hands still at his stomach. Blood pools around him. My hands shake as I drop the gun. I clasp my hand over my mouth to suppress a scream. I yank my jacket away from the metal, and start running. I turn the corner and hear the car alarm stop and a woman's ear piercing scream. I keep running. I hear ambulance and police sirens in the distance. I don't stop running until I get to our usual hangout, that had just been raided. I burst through the door and trip onto my hands and knees. The guilt and trauma is so much, that I throw up. I crawl to the wall and lean my back against it. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Tears fall onto my knees. I want to scream and so I do. It's a throat tearing screaming, that turns my throat raw and sore. Tears stream down my face. I wipe them away with the sleeve of my sweater and keep hugging my knees. Eventually, I hear the unmistakable sound of a helicopter, probably with heat seeking cameras, looking for me, the murderer. Next thing I know, police officers are bursting through all the entries. I feel the bright beam of a flashlight on my face and I look up, squinting into the bright light. I allow a cop pin my the ground while putting my hands in cuffs, then pull me to my feet. A different cop starts pushing me towards an exit. They push me all the way to a police divi van. They open the back of the divi van and push me in. They don't ask questions, they just stay silent and start the car.

After about half an hour in the back of the divi van, the car stops and the back is opened. I walk over to the exit and allow them to help me down. I try walk but my legs are so weak. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground. A policewoman helps me to my feet. She's speaking softly, but all I hear are muffled voices and my heart beat. She walks me into the police station and into the small jail cell. I sit on the bench and they take off my cuffs. I rest my head in my hands and allow what I've done to sink in.

I've killed someone

I am a murderer

What the fuck was I thinking

How could I be that ruthless?

I am a murderer

I am a murderer

I am a fucking murderer

I shot someone and ran away into the night like a coward

That person is dead

I left them to bleed to death

I am a murderer