ME AND HIM ✔️

Pt. 9

𝐓𝐰: 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮!𝐜!𝐝𝟑, 𝐏𝐓𝐒𝐃, 𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐈𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭. 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.

———

R U E

GUNSHOTS. That sound I knew all too well. Me and Nadine ran out of the closet and found everyone panicking. The gunshots were coming from upstairs.

The noises coming from upstairs only became louder. Screams and cry's were heard. Yelling and thumps were echoing across the house.

"GUYS, GUYS! PLEASE LETS JUST CALM DOWN." A girl with dyed blue hair was trying, but failing, to make sure everyone stayed calm.

"Do you have guns in here?" I whisper shouted to Nadine.

He looked down at me, seeming unsure of what I was asking. As if I wasn't trained to know how to use a gun? Everyone here is trained. Some more than others, but still everyone knows how to at least throw knives and reload a gun. Safety precautions, I guess.

"Yea they're..." he looks around, trying to remember where they were kept, "Over here." He grabs my wrist and led me towards a cabinet planted on the wall.

I opened the cabinet to reveal guns, knives, grenades. Anything you could think of to kill somebody. Huh, all of this in a basement.

"You should try and make those kids listen. Pass out guns to everyone. Make sure they can they don't shoot themselves." I look at Nadine, waiting for his response. He raises an eyebrow and scoffs. But when he looked around the room to see how scared everyone was, he gave me a nod and started taking all the guns off the wall.

By now everyone had guns and we had a plan set. Beatrice, and a boy with dirty blonde hair, were gonna go out the secret doorway hidden under the staircase.

They were gonna scope the place out and make sure we could get out safely. For some reason I felt like I was in a movie. But I didn't feel badass, I felt weak and useless.

Me and Alex. We were gonna stay put with everyone else. I had to make sure Alex didn't have a relapse while holding his knife. I didn't give him a gun, because he couldn't be trusted with one. It's not that I don't trust him.

But. Well. I guess I don't trust him.

Three years ago, Alex had a hard time explaining himself, letting people in, and trying hard to not let people get to him.

My brother was forced to kill someone, a traitor. My father forced it on him. Said he'll never be a man if he can't kill a fly. After that happened, my father started making things harder for him. He would burn us with his cigars, whip us if we didn't complete a task, he would cut my brother if he couldn't beat him. My brother fell off the wagon at that point.

I tried talking to him, but he always shut me out. He would stay in his room all day and not eat. I was terrified for him. My dad stopped working with him and moved onto me. He would do the same, except when it was my time to kill, my mother convinced him to stop completely.