𝐨𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 || steve randles sister

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭

"jesus fucking christ!" i had shouted as the rest of the station stayed silent without me, leaving me and my temper far behind.

"please, i'm telling you the truth, you have to believe me!" i yelled again, as steve put a firm hand on my shoulder, pushing me back from lunging at the lady sitting behind the front desk.

"you don't have evidence to prove your point, plus why wasn't the information provided while we asked you questions at the scene?" she asked, crossing her arms above her chest, while i angrily ran my hands through my hair, trying everything to calm myself down before making even more of a scene.

"i don't know!" i began as steve moved his hand from my shoulder to my elbow, putting a hold on my body so i wouldn't inch closer to her.

"i wasn't exactly okay in the head at that time." i finished, motioning towards my head with my fingers, a look of irritation plastered on my once calm face.

"what makes you think you're better now?" she asked raising her eyebrows in question.

"come on. you just have to believe me." i stated through a heavy breath, as pony from behind me, whispered for me to calm my tits.

"what makes you think you're better now?" she had demanded again, this time getting more aggravated with me by the second.

"maybe this time i'm not fucking high, or drunk as shit." i whisper screamed as two-bit chuckled a good one behind me while dallas slapped him clear in the face from what i could see in the corner of my eye.

"well then." she sighed in a sudden understanding.

"this case isn't our priority, sweetheart. we can take you in for questioning but might not get detectives on the case for awhile til it reaches the top of the pile." she said, almost saddened by her words, pointing behind her to cops with mountains of files on each of their desks.

why was she upset? why did she have the right to feel pity for me? this isn't her life that she's watching get thrown around in front of her fucking face.

this isn't her life. this isn't her personal hell that she's living.

she didn't trust a group of people with her life that she had barely met. she wasn't the only one who handed her world to a complete stranger and trusted them enough to keep her happy, to keep her safe, to keep her alive. she didn't spend what now was the worst night of her life watching herself hand over everything she had live for in return for shit.

she wasn't the only one that died that night.

he either, wasn't the only one who had died.

this girl, she had spent her life watching steve and soda grow up. it had taught her that best friends are supposed to do everything together. she just never imagined dying the same day that her world took his last breath. she thought that death was the one exception. she was wrong.

they had both died that night. they both couldn't go back to what life was before they were dead.

that lady, the one at the front desk, she hasn't been holding herself together for the past weeks so her brother wouldn't worry about what she's going through. she doesn't stay awake dreaming with her eyes open about that night that took her soul. she doesn't have to close her eyes to hear the faint sounds of that gunshot. no matter how high she was she can still remember. she didn't know that she could, but each night it was something new that she had collected from that day. she wanted every memory to make her realize that this was real. she didn't spend too long thinking about something's as small as the precise definition of thoughts. she would think about everything. she couldn't make herself stop.