Not Important

Betrayal

I ran into Kyle along the way, and he gave me a lift home. He didn't ask what had happened, just offered me a lift. And I took it.

Opening the door to my house, I rush in and into the living room. There, I stop. I can feel the pain. Those eyes were too much. Why am I doing this? To kill Maria so I can be happy? What kind of a reason is that? Dad would be pained with grief at her death and I would be guilty for it. I would be the cause of dad's pain then. He might even go so far as to commit suicide. And Jay would hate me. So would Michael and Lilly. And Ian. And if anyone was to find out, they'd hate me.

I've made a huge mistake. And whilst the Maria problem can't be fixed, I can still help Mark. I run towards the front door, about to run out to catch up with Kyle and ask him for one more ride. That's when the door won't open. My rucksack's in front of it. But how can that be? I got through the door into the house.

Just as I figure it out, a cold object is pressed against my back. I'm about to do my move that almost always works in these situations when another gun is pointed at my head.
"Walk to the kitchen. Don't make a sound. And if you do, we kill you", the familiar voice says.
"Ah, Nikki. I should have guessed from the smell of desperation and diseases", I say.

She pushes the cold gun against my head even more, and I start walking. As soon as I get to the kitchen, I see Trey standing right there with Steve. I narrow my eyes, feeling the anger bubble up in me.

"Hi Devon. Good to see you", Trey says. I say nothing, only picturing what I want to do to him now. I want to rip him apart, rip his flesh layer by layer, very slowly. I want to watch him die in the most brutal and unhumane way possible.

"Aw. You aren't speaking to me? Or are you too busy thinking about what you'll do to me?", he asks. I hate how he knows me so well.
"Trey, I'm not in the mood for your stupid plans. I need to go, and so do you", I tell him.
"Wait, are you on about us all killing Maria, or going back to your wimpy aśshole of an ex-boyfriend?", he asks me.

"You weren't going to help me kill my mother. Not after finding out about Mark and I. So what's your plan? Are you going to kill me? Do it!", I say, knowing he can never do that. He's never been able to. And he knows that I know it.
"I had a better idea", he says, steering the conversation in a different direction.

I can hear the front door open and close.
"Ah. Right on time!", he says.
I look behind me, and see him being pushed into the kitchen, by Nikki, with a gun.

He looks so different now. Clean clothes, shaved beard, hair cut. He's sober.

"Dad", I let out a choked whisper, feeling my stomach plummet fourteen storey's as I come to the dreaded understanding of why they have my dad.