Their Situation, Our Problem

Prologue

were YOU worth it?

I was submerged in water. I was sinking into the depths of my thoughts and it was getting harder to hold on. The noises around me kept getting jumbled more and more. Everything was foggy and nothing made sense. I saw their lips moving but I couldn't understand what they were saying. Words were leaving their mouths, but meaning was not. I was drowning and all that I could hear was mumbling.

Pop!

"Everyone needs to shut the fuck up," someone shouted! I broke through the water surface and suddenly everything was sharp and distinguished.

"Check if Brunette's in shock," the same person said. He was the driver. We were in a car and he was driving.

His voice dragged me back into the backseat of that tiny car we were all currently crammed inside of. It took me a while to understand that he was talking about me. I could feel everyone's gazes on me. Their need for reassurance was exhausting but I could not reciprocate. Not because I wasn't fine, I was, I was fine, but because... because... because...

"My name is not Brunette," I stated abruptly. My head snapped up to look up into the rear view mirror quick enough to meet his stare.

"It's a nickname," he said.

"I haven't known you long enough for nicknames."

"I didn't know there was a required amount of time before being allowed to give a nickname."

Good point, but that didn't mean I liked it. Hell, I didn't like half of the shit that was going on. I didn't even know what was going on.

Ugh, my lips were parched. They were dry and cracked. Where was my chap stick when I needed it? 

My neck was definitely going to bruise later and so would my shoulder. It hurt like hell. I did not think about the kick. Why didn't I think about the kick? Well, I didn't think at all, that's why.

My hands started shaking again. My hands were cold, numb, they kept twisting themselves in knots. My knuckles were pale...

"I don't like it," I decided.

"It suits you," he rationalized.

"I have a real name," I argued.

"Which is," he asked?

I contemplated...

Avoidance it was then.

"I'm not in shock," I said in reference to what he had said earlier.

"Good. One less obstacle," he said.

More silence. More darting glances. More twisting and knotting of my hands. More contemplation.

"Did I," I choked and paused. Did I really want to know? Did I even deserve to know? I had to know.

"Were you worth it?" I whispered instead. My head bowed to escape his deep, sea green, eyes.

"I don't know," he answered.

Deep breath.

In. Out.

Stop shaking.

In. Out.

Control yourself.

In. Out.

Lift your head.

In. Out.

Meet his gaze.

In. Out.

Ask.

"Did I kill him?"

"I don't know."

Fuck.