Replaced

Part 19

His golden blonde hair bounced as he sprinted, he giggled dodging the milk carton being thrown at him, in instinct he picked up the can of ravioli and threw it at the Irish lady. Then he proceeded to run through another isle of the grocery store.

"TOMMY, WHERE ARE YOU?!" He could hear her yell, he manically laughed and decided to go further into the publix.

His foot then slipped on a yellow 'it's wet here' sign, "ow." He groaned, but still hacking out his lungs from laughter, he saw a figure standing over him, wide eye, mouth agape.

It took him a minute to realize that wasn't minx.

"Holy shit, Tommy?!"

He heavily breathed as he ran towards the hole that his 'friend' dug, he furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at the black haired boy.

"Who'd you kill?" Grayson asked nonchalantly, as if it was normal question to ask people. The younger smirked at him, reached for his back pocket. He pulled out a glock similar to schlatt but not quite his.

"It's not who I killed, it's who your going to kill." He said happily practically shoving the gun into Grayson hands, the light purple orbs widened. "Oh come on gray, you've killed before."

"Who am I going to kill?"

"Well, Tommy shouldn't have one parental figures in his life let alone two, so choose. Schlatt or minx. Or I will kill both of them." He then walked away, leaving the seventeen year old boy with nothing but a decision and a gun.

Time skip

Grayson splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection. His eyes were puffy, face painted in tears. He sniffled as he put his palms into his face, sobbing harder slowly sliding down the bathroom door.

"F-fuck." He choked up, he ran a hand through the sandy hair, a pain gnawed at his throat, scratching at it. He just wanted to scream, but he covered his mouth, he could feel the hot tears run down touching his fingers.

He stared at the glock, maybe it's better to end it all. He shook his head in defeat, no he'll still kill them. The burning feeling was still in his throat, he started to feel a cough come up, what was a cough turned to be him hacking out his lungs.

Once he finally calmed down his throat still felt like it was getting knifed at the moment, but he opened his eyes slowly immediately jerking away from seeing only one substance now on the floor.

Blood.

He frantically got up, stumbling, struggling to keep his balance. He tugged on to his hair, heavily breathing, hardly keeping his shit together as he stared at the floor then back at the glock, just back and forth.

"W-Why? " He lightly whispered, he sounded torn apart, tired.