My friend, Demise

Chapter 17

I woke up in a room I hadn't seen before, soft acoustic guitar playing from the corner. The walls and ceiling were completely covered in band posters and drawings of cartoon characters, the carpet a bright shade of red. The window was covered with blackout curtains but there was a soft white lamp on at the other end of the room.

I sat up, holding my hands up and tugging at my hair as gunshots rang in my ears. I'd killed someone. My breathing sped up, tears welling in my eyes. "Demise-?"

"I'm here."

I pushed the black bedsheets off of me, looking toward the comforting sound and finding that Demise was sitting on a bright red beanbag chair. He was playing a song on the guitar that I didn't know but was soft enough that it wouldn't have woken me up. He was also humming, the rain outside pairing well with the sounds the filled the room.

"Azriel! Good morning!" He set his guitar aside.

"Wait." I held up a hand as he went to put his guitar away. "Don't stop." I smiled softly at him. "It sounds so pretty."

He pulled the instrument back into his lap and began to gently pluck at the strings. It was odd to see him in casual clothing, though I'm not sure why. He wore a loose grey sweater and black boxers, his nails bit down. "How are you feeling?" He asked, a few brown curls falling into his face.

"I don't know, actually."

"You remember what happened?"

I could still feel his hand between my legs, which made me sick. "I'd rather not think about it. I feel like the world is collapsing on me."

"Darling, it already did." He tilted his head and smiled weakly.

"You seem different, Demise."

His hair was tied in a small bun at the top of his head. "I feel different. Had a talk with my Dad..."

"About what? Is everything okay?"

"My moms really sick and has been since a bit after she had me. She has to go back to the hospital and stay for a while like when I was young."

"Will she be okay?"

"I don't know this time." His expression weakened to that of a bright smile. "But I've got this so I'll be okay!"

"Demise, are you sure you're okay? That sounds really bad."

"I'm nervous." He began to fumble with the noted, flinching each time he messed up. "I feel like I'm being held at gunpoint."

"You kind of are, aren't you?"

"No, I'm okay." He laughed and put his guitar away, picking up his phone and scrolling through the notifications. "I've relapsed a bit and now I'm feeling-"

"Relapsed?"

His movements grew jittery. "I uh- yeah. That's half of the conversation I had with my dad. He was mad at me because I relapsed."

"What is it that you're addicted to?"

"That's a conversation for another say. Talking about my mom is a far enough boundary... that's as far as I'll let you cross."

"I'm worried now..."

"Don't worry about me. You killed someone, I'm sure you've got enough on your up."

"But-"

"Please don't overthink this." He placed a shaking hand in the air to hush me. "Promise me....promise me you won't think about this too much."

"Alright. Fine."

"Thanks....I'm doing good so let's not open up that can of worms yet." He smiled weakly and dropped his phone to the floor. I stood up and walked over to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the bed to lay with me.

"Lay with me."

"I don't think I should....I've actually got bad news for you and I don't think you'll want to be around me after you hear if."

I slowly sat up again, arms tensing. "I don't believe that. What is it?"

"I uh....well last night after you fell asleep, my dad brought this home." He pulled something out of his beside table drawer and set it in my lap. It was black and oddly heavy for an article of clothing.

"What's this?" I held it up to get a good look, my heart beating faster when he answered.

"Bulletproof vest. That's all that was left where the body was when my dad went to bury it. He also found my gun...the one you used to shoot him."

"He's not dead-? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes. He's hurt but...he's not dead." I stood up and grabbed my phone, checking to make sure my parents were okay before heading for the door. "Hey wait! This guy's smart! Don't just go out and look for him."

"My dad isn't answering." I glared at him. "If that son of a bitch didn't die then I'm sure he's pissed. I wouldn't put it past him to hurt my family."

I was right. He was pissed. And he did hurt my family.