your heart was glass, I dropped it
Clara Ramone wasn't known for her brains or how pretty she was. She was known for being the younger sister of Max Ramone who had the worst reputation out of everyone who's ever lived in West Ham. Luckily for her...
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It had been 5 hours since Clara collapsed. She still hadn't woken up yet. Her phone had 5 missing calls from Harry, 3 from Grizz and 300 messages from 10 different group chats. Someone was standing over her, watching her as she lay on the floor in a sort of coma. The person smirked at her, knowing it was their actions that caused the girl to faint.
***4 hours earlier***
Harry, Campbell and some of the other boys sat in the cafe talking about what had happened yesterday.
"They've taken, like, all the guns," one boy piped up.
"No fucking way."
"They're, like, testing all the guns to see which one got fired."
"Can they even do that?"
"They can do whatever they like now, remember no rules."
Harry looked down at his phone. Clara said she would text him when she was on her way an hour ago. He shrugged it off, thinking she got caught up with Allie or something.
"Dude, they're swabbing everyone, and they're building a massive DNA database."
"Damn, Gordie's a mega nerd."
"Motherfucker could be capable of some crazy-ass science."
"True, true, true. Well... he was obsessed with Cassandra," Harry said while getting up to get a refill.
Dewey followed him to the bar.
"Yeah, but I mean, even if they figure out who did it, it's not like they're gonna do anything about it, right?" Dewey said.
"Hmm, yeah. Maybe they should. I mean, I don't love some unhinged weirdo running around shooting people."
Dewey frowned.
"How are they a weirdo?"
Harry was starting to get a little suspicious of the boy.
"Because... he fucking shot someone."
"Well, not just someone, right? I mean, it's Cassandra."
"I mean, the way I look at it, they did us a favour," the ginger boy continued.
"I don't think killing someone is something people should be thanking them for."
"I finally got you some peace and quiet like you wanted."
"The least I could get is a thank you."
It all hit Harry. Dewey killed Cassandra. He walked out of the cafe, heading in the direction of Allie's house.
Harry began to run, scared that Dewey was following him.
