heathers one-shots

second chance // movie

After the bomb went off outside of Westerburg, police were called to the scene. I rushed to the locker room to shower and throw on my gym clothes, hoping to god that no one would open their mouth about seeing me covered in soot. My heart was beating insanely fast the whole time because I knew I'd take the fall for this. Even if blowing up the school was JD's idea, as was his suicide, he wasn't able to take the blame. Once again, he had left me to clean up his mess.

If the police look into me, they'd ask for my diary which tells every dirty secret JD and I shared. They'd know how I wrote the notes for Heather, Kurt and Ram. Disposing of my diary wasn't a viable option either, that would cause even more suspicion. So, with my head down, I went up to the friendliest looking police officer.

"Miss, you can't be here." The officer, a nice lady in maybe her early thirties, told me.

"That was my boyfriend." I explained, to which she pulled me aside.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. Did he leave a note or give any general signs of being suicidal?" She asked me gently.

"No, he didn't." I answered, my stomach flipping and flopping around. I wanted to run away from this, the inevitable consequences of my inactions.

"Someone named Heather Duke claims that you were outside when he killed himself. Is that true?" She questioned. I wanted to strangle Heather for never knowing when to keep her big mouth shut.

"Yes." I replied. "He was going to blow up the school. There's thermals in the gym. I tried to stop him." I explained myself.

"How?" The officer asked.

"He left his gun in my room last night. I shot him twice and left him there." I told her.

"Why did you leave him?" She queried, her tone almost accusatory. I pulled my hair back and showed her the split on my temple.

"Because if I didn't, he was going to kill me." I hissed, irritated that she could blame me for this.

"What makes you think that?" She questioned.

"Because he killed three other people." I answered, finally letting that weight off my shoulders. I felt like I could finally breathe.

"Who?" She asked.

"Heather Chandler, Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeny." I listed their names, which I hadn't spoken in months.

"Those were suicides." She stated, clearly not believing a bit of what I said.

"That's because he made me write the notes. I have a knack for copying handwriting and he took advantage of that." I explained and she sort of rolled her eyes. "You can ask Heather Duke and Heather McNamara, they've seen me forge shit." I told her.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this sooner?" She asked me.

"Because he was hitting me!" I laughed at her, right in her goddamn face. "You think this is the first mark he's left?" I demanded an answer from her, yanking up my sleeves to show what I hadn't shown anyone. She looked down at the yellowing bruises on my wrists and elbows, having not the slightest clue that this was not the worst of it.

"I'm going to take you downtown so we can get a proper confession." She informed me as I nodded in agreement.

"Just please don't handcuff me." I begged. She glanced at my wrists again.

"I won't." She promised me, walking me to the group of other officers and explaining the situation. After that, I was led to a car and taken to the precinct with a second officer in tow.