Troubled [h.s.]

25

The blood that leaks out of his skull comes to the tip of my shoe. I back away slowly, my hands shaking. Too many deaths. There has been too many deaths.

The gun shot is so loud in a closed space that my ears bang for awhile and I become so dizzy that the floor leaves my feet for a moment.

No words come out and I find my knees shaking until something touches my hand. I can't look up until I do and see Harry looking down at me. He intervenes our fingers and squeezes my hand. I finally have the power in me and look up to see who fired the gun.

Its the tall guy that I smashed his face. His left eye is red, veins on the white part popping out, around the eye is bleeding, he is leaning on his right leg, left probably sprained. Half of his face is covered in blood and the rest looks like it wants to be dead.

"You think you are one special piece of shit." He spits blood on the floor and then smiles at me with a twisted expression.

"You just killed your friend." I speak and words come out like they are not mine. I have this power in me that Harry gives that even in this situation I feel like I have the upper hand.

"I killed your friend too." he mocks me and focuses on something behind me. I don't understand it first but when I look back up there is no one holding my hand. I look down at my hand and my fingers are wrapped around the trigger of the gun, not Harry's hands.

My knees go weak as I look behind me too. There is Harry still lying on the floor. It was not real. Harry never got up and held my hand. It was the gun.

With a reflex I point the gun at the tall man as tears flood down my face again. He is first shocked but then puts on a brave expression.

"Tell me your name. Before I kill you. Tell me your name." the gun in my hand shakes vigorously as tears get even more intense. Zayn died today, I don't know if Harry is okay, the blue eyed mans brains spilled out in front of me. So much happened so quickly. I don't think I am processing any.

"I don't need to tell you my name. People like you can never pull the trigger." He mocks me even harder, smiling with an impish expression.

"Don't be fooled by my tears." I say and pull the trigger, a loud banging is followed by the tall man falling onto his knees. We make eye contact as he understands he is wrong and I can see fear taking over until his eyes loose focus and life escapes out of him.

"What did I fucking do?" The gun falls out of my hand. My DNA is everywhere here, the cops are going to find me. They have my DNA all over Zayn too. What if that falls on me too? I am so fucked.

Harry. Focus on Harry.

I run to him, pushing away my worries for a moment. His bleeding has stopped but he is still passed out. I put my fingers on his wrist and get a heart beat. He is alive.

I need to clean this place up.

My brain thinks of ways to do it. I need to go out and buy stuff. But my body does not obey. I soon fall to the flor. This is not me. This is weak. I am not weak. I need to pull myself together and do something.

I dial him. Its the only name that comes to my mind.

"Louis! Please help us Louis!" I yell into the phone as soon as he picks it up. The other line falls silent after my words, listening intently and probably thinking.

"They kidnapped us. Louis! Are you trying to find us?! Because I got this mans phone. He is dead. Some other guy shot him! Louis! Harry is bad! Really bad! Louis please send help!" The line is still silent. My breathing becomes hyper as he continues not to talk. I am panicking like fuck at this moment.