The time read 04:23 when I woke up to get some water. This is the longest I've slept every since the night of the murder. Even though I had only been asleep for two hours.
I sat on the kitchen counter top and crossed my legs. I honestly just need to relax.
I get a bottle of vodka from the cupboard and drink it. Tears stream down my face and I feel myself wanting to scream really badly.
"Maya, what's wrong?" Jabu asked. He pulled me in for a hug but I pushed him away. "Talk to me," he plead.
"I just don't fucking know what the fuck I was thinking when I shot your father," I sobbed. "Don't give him that title," he whispered.
"I'm sorry," I whispered back. "Look, it's gonna get better. Wanna take a drive?" he said. "Only if we can listen to slowed music and get high," I smiled. "Deal," he said and got the keys.
I climbed into the passenger seat as he adjusted the drivers seat. "You know I've never driven this car?" he said when he started the G63.
"It's the smoothest thing you'll ever drive," I said. "Smoother than you?" he flirted. "Jabu man," I laughed and played a slowed YouTube playlist that I made.
His hand rested on my thigh and I felt somewhat safe. A loud crash caused the car to stop moving so Jabu reversed.
"What did we hit?" I ask with my anxiety flying out of the car.
"Is it safe for me to step outside?" he asks and I nod. We climb out of the car and the sight of blood causes me to stop.
A whole fucking deer. Shit.
The car had a little scratch on it. If it wasn't for the bull bars, it would've been a gone car. It still has a lot of blood on it.
"I'm gonna call my mom," I say as soon as we get into the car. "You can't do that. It's fucking four in the morning," Jabu snapped.
"Don't shout at me! You're the one that was driving!" I yell back. "Oh, so it's my fault that you can't stomach the fact that you're a murderer?" he said flatly.
"Ja- I-... no, it's your fucking fault for making me a murderer," I say with my voice breaking. Tears fell from my eyes and loud sobs filled the car.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "What for? For making me kill a man? For how we used my moms truck to transport a dead body? For how we fucking burnt him? Or for how you rubbed it in my face? " I ask.
At this point, my anger was being worse by the second. "Maya," he breathed. "Don't fucking talk to me. And get the fuck out of the drivers seat," I told him.
He climbed out and sat in the back as I jumped to the drivers seat.
I switched the car on and reversed to make a turn. I drove us back home and parked the car.
"Maya?" he called and I ignored him. "Can we fucking talk?" he snapped and held onto my arm.
Our eyes met and I suddenly broke down again. "Fuck you," I sobbed into his chest when he hugged me really tightly.
"I'm not letting you go," he whispered as I cried my eyes out.
When I calmed down, he took my hand and walked us to the living room. I sat down and he rushed to the kitchen to get me water.
"I'm sorry for shouting at you," he said when he sat next to me. "It's okay," I said and drank the water.
"I just want us to forget about it," he said followed by a sigh. "I know, baby. I do too," I tell him.
"We just need to give it some time, okay?" I say and put my hand on his. "We'll get through the it together," he reassured me.
"We need to get that car cleaned," I say. "Okay, I think that we should wipe the blood off of it and then we'll take it to the car wash around 7am," he said and I agreed.
Well, this has been a very long three days.
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