3. Losing Fight
1231 Words
Bree
I washed the blood off my hands yet again, for the third time now. I hated being such a bad person, and it was only a matter of time before I was caught. I briefly thought about getting caught on purpose, so I wouldn't have to do any more bad things, but I couldn't let my family down like that. Maybe I could fix this myself and they'd never hear of this mess.
"Hey, Bree I'm home early!" Mom yelled. Crud, I had to clean up quick!
"Yay, I'll be there in a second mom!" I yelled back, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. Mom was more likely to find something out of place than the police were.
I squirted more soap on my hands and scrubbed harder until I couldn’t see another smudge of blood.
The bathroom door banged as I flung it open and ran downstairs into the kitchen, where Mom was.
"Hey sweetie, how was your day? Oh, what happened to your shirt?" She said.
My shirt... I knew mom would find something the police didn't! Or maybe she made me more nervous than the police, more likely to make a mistake. I looked down; too much blood for a bloody nose.
"Oh, I had, uh, a group project, dumped paint on myself!" A quickly thought of, lame excuse, but it worked. Now I hope she doesn't tell anyone. At least Alex wasn’t home so he couldn't point out that I hardly helped with group projects anyway.
"Oh! What were you working on? Can I see?" Mom asked, smiling brightly.
"Um volcano project, one of my friends has it, you know, group project and all!" I said with a grin. Hopefully not a guilty grin.
"Oh, ok. I was hoping to see it! Well, clean up your clothes and come down for dinner, I started a homemade pizza this morning and it'll be done in ten minutes!" Mom said, looking into the oven. I loved how nothing could squish her good moods. Well, nothing she knew about so far, I was sure I could with ease if I tried.
"Sure, sounds good!" I said and ran back upstairs. I’d have to be sure to wash this shirt myself.
⇎
"No, I can't do this again! I've almost been caught too many times already!" I said through gritted teeth. Standing up to him was both hard and easy. On one hand, I'd been dying to yell and rebel and all things of that manner for ages! On the other, I knew what he was capable of...
The man was standing in the woods with me, my dog Princie behind me. Princie was a fluffy golden retriever puppy, very loyal.
"No! I-I can't steal a car, I can't even drive yet!" I protested.
He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me up off my feet, extremely uncomfortable and scary I'll admit. "You don't refuse, or else."
He dropped me, and in a swift movement kicked Princie as hard as he could. If Princie hadn’t been about to bite the man’s leg, maybe he would’ve been able to dodge…
I watched in horror as my beautiful puppy flew into the side of a tree and lay still. I ran towards him and gently picked him up, but Princie didn't move or make a noise. His soft body limp, a trickle of blood running from his nose.
I was startled out of my memory by his voice. "Oh, you'll do this or I'm comin' for your ma."
I couldn't let him get my mom... Heck, I wanted to call the police on him! But... Those friends of his...
"Fine..." I mumbled. What if his friends weren't real though? Could someone so vile have friends who would regret his death? Was it worth the risk, to try something? If it was just me, yes. But it wasn't, this concerned my family as well.
He grinned. "Good, I knew ya would come 'round! Oh an here," He handed me an earpiece. "This is 'cause you been a lil sloppy I'm gonna talk to ya now."
I took it and scowled, his voice in my head was the last thing I wanted. But I put it on anyway, fearing what would happen if I didn't.
He showed me the house; I was after an old lady this time. This was getting really out of hand... What could an old lady even have done to him? Told him to stand up straight?
I stalked up to the house and peeked through the window; she was sitting in front of the TV watching a superhero movie with great pleasure. How could I do this? My shoulders slumped as I walked around to the unlocked front door. I walked in, closing it quietly. I crept into the doorway to the living room, thinking frantically. I had to find a way to avoid this...
Glancing around, I crept closer, and my hip bumped a dresser. Totally by accident, I swear. A vase fell off, shattering on the floor with a crash magnified by the silence.
"What the heck are ya doin'?" A rough voice yelled into my ear at the same moment that the TV turned off. Oops, hadn't thought that far...
“I… I hit a dresser, it was an accident! I’ll finish this quick, okay? And if you really want this done, maybe make yourself useful and cut the phone lines or something.” I couldn’t help but snap a little, plus the longer I talked the more likely this wouldn’t get done. Maybe he’d even tell me to just back off.
I could hear buttons being pressed on a phone. I could only hope the man could hear it too.
I stood, waiting for another second until his voice came back, "Kill 'er already!" I sighed, maybe I would have to… And he didn’t even bother to respond to my jab about doing something. I crept towards her, a feeling of deep regret inside.
The door burst open behind me, I flew around, a policeman pointed his gun at me. I dropped the knife and put my hands up.
"You're under arrest!" He yelled as more police filed in after him.
"What's goin’ on? Police? Fight em! If ya don't get outta there Imma go after your ma!" He yelled.
"No, leave her alone!" I growled. How could he do this?! Say go kill cute old ladies and when the police come escape at all costs or I'll kill your mom! Heartless old git!
"FIGHT EM!"
"FINE!" I yelled. I lunged at the first one, knocking his gun aside. Another of them ran into me and pinned me to the wall.
I burst into tears. "No no NO!" I yelled. What would happen to Mom because of me? What would they think of me? Could I possibly lie my way out of this one? “Let me go, you don’t understand…” I sobbed.
"Silence!" Someone yelled.
"Ya tell 'bout me an' it'll be more than ya ma!" His gravelly voice grated in my ear.
I fell silent, tears streaming down my face. So not fair... But what could I do?
- Writer
