"Just this last Sunday, 17 year old Brooke Heartly was found outside a beach cove on the far side of Venice beach. Parents of the teen say she was to be spending the weekend at a friends house for her Saturday birthday and have no idea how the teen managed to make her way to cliff where she supposedly fe-"
It had been on the news all morning... I couldn't take it anymore and turned of my tv. She fell about 8 1/2 feet from the cliff above the cove, landing on nothing but rock and sand. No one knew much about her condition. Her parents had paid the hospital a pretty penny to keep her condition private and no one was allowed within 7 feet of her. I had contemplated killing myself. Maybe even killing that bastard Andy. This was his fault. He had threatened to kill her and me. I didn't care about my life but in the end... I couldn't let him hurt her but just look at all the shit we are in now. She was a hot topic and no one knew what to think. Some had already speculated it was suicide, but I doubted it. Brooke was the happiest girl I knew...was.
She ripped herself from my arms and I stood there with my head hanging, feeling like a beaten dog. I could barely focus or respond to the group cracking open beers and sitting around the fire pit, laughing. I couldn't even turn to beat Andy as he laughed and patted my shoulder before joining his friends. I couldn't scream at them and kick them out as they went through the tent, plundering her things... I was trash...
I had been drunk and high all Saturday night and most of Sunday while she laid unconscious at the mouth of a cave, near death. I hated myself but I was too much of a pussy to do anything about it, I still am. On her birthday... I had done this to her on her birthday... My fingerprints were probably all over her. Could they test for fingerprints on someones skin? Maybe not, but definitely they could test for DNA, I knew that much. How much was she saying about what happened? Was she saying anything at all? Or had she not even woken up yet? They had said she at least was in a coma.
"Zachary! Get down here!" My Aunts voice ripped me from my thoughts and I groaned, reluctantly dragging myself out of my chair and stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen.
"What the hell do you want?" I glared at my Aunt, earning a glare back and a sad glance from Sophie.
"Considering your drunken stupor and the fact that the upstairs of my house smells like weed, I suppose you've heard the news about Bro-"
"Shut up!" Both of them froze and I rushed out to my car, ignoring Sophie screaming at me to get out of the car and come back inside. It was annoying, I wasn't going to go anywhere. I just crawled into the backseat and stayed there until she left. Once she left, I resigned myself to getting out of the car and walking to Andy's house. The asshole deserved what was coming to him. This was all his fault.
When he answered the door to earn a punch to the face, damn was his expression priceless.
"Dude, what the hell!?" He was on the floor holding his nose, red fluid gushing from between his fingers. Good.
"Shut up while I kill you, will you?" I smirked and laid into him, smirking at every snapping sound I heard come from his chest cavity. I was breaking ribs and it felt damn good. Only problem was, he kept screaming and no amount of punches seemed to shut him up and it was really starting to hurt my head. I was so focused on trying to murder the fucker that I barely even registered the sound of sirens in the distance.
Shit, this looked like a one sided fight. My knuckles were bloodied, bruised, and cut up from this assholes piercings, but it was fairly obvious that he hadn't hit me once. Just as I stopped, hoping he'd hit me and the fight would look mutual, I realized that he was unconscious.
"Shit, shit, shit..." I got off him, pulling at my own hair as the world seemed to spin. Did I actually kill him? They'll lock me away. Brooke... she'd hate me. She will hate me. She'll get back with him! Wait, is he dead? No, he's breathing. Damn.
I contemplated running as the cops pulled up the driveway. Maybe if I ran out and pretended that I had a gun, they would shoot me... It'd be so easy... I'd escape Brookes judgements... was she even still alive enough to judge me? Fuck... this can't be happening...
Before I even thought about what I was doing, I was running, my face down and hidden. They'd never know it was me. They'd never know what happened. I kept running until i couldn't anymore and found myself outside of Brookes house. I couldn't stop the tears that streamed down my cheeks. I pulled at my hair and sobbed, collapsing by a willow tree in the yard and hiding beneath it. Memories of Brooke filled my mind as an officer that had followed me cuffed me, hauling me up and throwing me in the back of his car.
