The Pretty List ~ A Lams AU

✨3 ~ Murder✨

most of this chapter is guessed but ig u can say that for most

(Manslaughter is hurting someone and they die accidentally and murder is killing on purpose, i know too much abt murder now)

tw: blood, death, john has a panic attack at one point though it's shown and not told, but stay safe.

John

~

"Hey John?" Francis calls and I tense up, dropping my pencil onto the pad of paper. I mentally run through my checklist; it's only 9pm, his voice is light and his footsteps aren't heavy. It seems as though he's in a good mood.

I breath a sigh of relief.

"Yeah?" I reply, quickly heading out of my room and running down the stairs, to where's standing. He smiles almost sympathetically at me.

"I'm going out sweetie." He smiles and I fake a smile back, letting him press a kiss to my forehead. It takes all my effort not to pull a face and push him away.

"Ok. See you soon!" I fake, my voice light and cheery. I know here he was going. He was going to go get drunk and cheat on me. A normal occurrence. He come back in the worst mood, he's hurt me then deny it in the morning.

"Love ya." He lies and I parrot it back to him before he finally leaves.

I slam the door behind me and press my back to it, breathing a sigh of relief. Desperately, I run my fingers through my hair. I hate him. He's low-key just abusive and he wont let me break up with him. I'm stuck. I'm trapped.

My face darkens as a thought flashes across my brain. It is definitely one not like me, or one I should have. I don't think I've ever thought like this before...

Kill him.

I could kill him.

Make it look like a drunken accident.

But... the risk. I could get hurt. It could go wrong.

But..

I could.

I could.

I will.

It's settled. He's dead.

Tonight.

Why not?

time motherfucking skip

I sit there, running my hands through my hair. I had been debating it all the time he was out. It was one in the morning. I need to hype myself up more, or I'll never be able to pull this off.

It wasn't hard to stay awake really, it's a talent.

I decided on pushing him down the stairs. My house is tall, and the carpet was fraying, and I expected since he would be pissed it would be easy.

I also plan on telling him exactly how I feel. It's not going to be an accident. I need him to know I meant to kill him. He doesn't deserve happy last moments.

The front door suddenly slams downstairs, and I jump, shaken out of my thoughts. I take as few deep breaths, I could hardly believe I was doing this.

I hear him mumble to himself, then shout something incoherently, probably at me.

Shit.

But I'm not going to him. I've done that enough. He can fucking come to me for once.

I sit down on the bed and lean back slightly, drumming my fingers anxiously on the bed. I can do this. It's simple, isn't it? One push, and its all over. Would be a shame to back out now anyway.