Slow Motion

I lay entangled with both my sheets and Kylie, covered with sticky sweat. My mind kept making flash backs to my neighbours episode. It now terrified me beyond belief at how fascinated I had found it.

“Oli,” Kylie whispered, waking from her light sleep. Her tiny, strong legs were mixed up with my own, her arms around my shoulders.

“Yeah, love?” I said back, taping the end of her cute nose.

She smiled at my gesture before detaching herself from me and sliding her head down to my waist. Goose bumps rolled down my spine. When Kylie was done she walked over to my window, pulled it open and lit a joint.

“Does that stuff even do anything for you anymore?” I teased her, sitting up and joining her at my open window sill after pulling on a pair of boxers.

“Don’t be so cheeky!” Kylie exhaled some sweet smoke before capturing my lips with hers. I let myself get caught up in that tranquil moment before a knock on my door snapped me back into reality.

“Is there a one Oliver Sykes in there?” An authoritative voice boomed from outside my door; a voice that I didn’t recognize.

Kylie and I looked at each other with terror filled faces.

“Shit,” I managed to mutter while I pulled on a pair of jeans. “Put that thing out, would yeh? The last thing we need is for both of us to go to jail.”

Kylie quickly put out her joint and helped me out the window. I bolted down the street. I ran like no other. There was no way in hell that I was going to jail for what I did.

What I did was just. Someone owed me something and they couldn’t pay for it. Since they couldn’t pay for it, they suffered the consequences. Or, at least, that’s what I tried to convince myself. There had always been something so glamorous and fascinating about murder I just couldn’t get over.

I stumbled as fast as I could down the street, my bare feet getting torn up by the rough pavement. I tripped over a stone and plummeted into the ground, scraping my arms and chin. I lay on the ground for a moment, catching my breath. I looked up at the road ahead of me, wondering where the hell I could go in the middle of the night.

I could hear people in the distance behind me. I looked back, against my will.

That’s when I saw them. The officers, guns in their belts. A thing that had once seemed so small couldn’t have looked bigger right at that moment. It was as though they all had a magnets in them, all propelled to implant their bullets in my heart.

I got up as quick and quiet as I could, getting the hell out of there. But it didn’t work. People started talking, started yelling. Shouting grew louder and louder and the officers grew nearer and nearer. And that’s when it happened.

I was turning the corner, almost at Mattie’s house. A bullet was fired. Only one, but it was shot right. Right into my arm, that is. I didn’t even have enough time to register the pain. I don’t think I even fell over. I kept going, oblivious to the blood decanting from my wounded arm.

I sped around the corner and practically busted down Mattie’s door so that I could get in without the officer’s seeing me.

“Oli?” Mattie asked, scratching the back of his head. “What the hell?” He asked groggily, not even surprised that I had a gun wound.

“Fuck,” I moaned, collapsing on Mattie’s floor, myself and everything around me seemingly immersed in my blood.

“Dude, I’ll help ya, but you’ve got no sympathy on my part.” Mattie just looked at me like I were a piece of rubbish. "Why did you do it? I can't even imagine what was going through your mind."

“I did it.." Then I stated to think. Why did I do it? Why didn't I save myself this pain and just wait another few days. Just realize that we are human and can't always meet deadlines.

"Just fuckin’ get me a Band Aid or fuckin’ something, eh?” was all I could manage to say when I realized why I did it.