feel. → jacksepticeye

e l e v e n

warning: heavy mention of drug use

It's been about two months since I was said to be not guilty over the death of my mother. The case still remains a mystery; how on Earth did she die? And yet only a handful of people know, yet that same, handful of people continue to convince themselves that they don't know a thing.

The actual impact of her death had only hit me about a month and a half ago when I was suddenly hit with the craving for a Sunday roast and then I realized that I had nobody around to make it. Ultimately, I'd called her up, and there had been silence on the other end.

I'd broken down into tears at that point, and it took me a good, few hours with the help of Jack to finally calm down. But it's not been the same since then. My room has become the most comforting place, my bed a sanctuary of private tears and endless nights.

The scary thing is, it wasn't the murdering that made me feel this way, or her death, even, it was just the cold loneliness that followed. Obviously, I had nobody but myself to blame, but if she had just stayed home that day then none of this would have ever happened. She shouldn't have interfered. 

Jack was getting increasingly worried about me and my behaviour, though I couldn't find it in me to be empathetic with his sympathy anymore. All I could do was just lie there, sleep for most of the day and then cry when I woke up. I'd been tempted to give Jack an apartment key as I'd gotten absolutely exhausted of getting up to open the door for him, so much so that I'd even ignored him sometimes. I want to do it, but I can't.

And then there was today, where I felt a silent, niggling urge inside of me that actually tempted me to get out of bed.

"Liz," I said slowly.

"What the hell do you want, you murdering bitch?" She spat, her tone acidic and damaging. I flinched but forced an irritated smile.

"I get it now," I whispered, playing the game. "I know what I've done wrong, and I want to hand myself in. I can't bare the guilt anymore."

"You better not- oh," she was quiet for a moment. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I deserve to be punished, Liz," I cracked my voice and sniffled. "I know that this is the right thing to do. I owe it to her."

Once the call was over, I texted Sean.

Bryony: I'll be over your place in about two hours, is that ok?:D

Jack: yes, of course! are you feeling better?

Bryony: lots. had an epiphany i guess

Jack: about what?:P

Bryony: about how i actually have a purpose, and that i am good at something

Jack: awesome!:D what is it?

Bryony: i'll tell you all about it when i come over (:

* * *

Highly recommend for a better experience you play Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe just to get into the mood haha

Not even ten minutes later, the easily manipulated bitch arrived at my door. My chest was aching with anticipation and my hands itched to reach for the weapon I'd hidden by the shoe rack that was right next to the door. I flicked a switch on my stereo, allowing the quiet hum of Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe by Digital Daggers to start up in the background.

"Come in," I requested quietly as I opened the door for Liz. She glared at me and I had a sudden feeling; a strange sensation that felt like my blood was bubbling or sparkling with excitement. Almost as if somebody had put popping candy into my bloodstream. "How are you?"

"Let's stay away from the small talk," Liz walked forward, head held high as she graced past the coffee table and went to the window. "And tell me what you really did."

I quietly moved my fingers over the lock and twisted it silently, feeling the click beneath my fingertips and hiding my sly grin by looking at the ground. With her back to me, I felt behind me and closed my hand around the handle of the baseball bat.

"Oh, Liz," I brought the baseball bat up and felt for the top of it with my other hand, then throwing it and resting it on my shoulder. "Are you stupid?"

She turned around, hair tousled, and then her eyes widened at the sight of the object in my hand. Her first reaction was to open her mouth wide in an attempt to scream, but I had already swung the bat for her. It made sickening contact with the side of her head and she fell to the floor with a whimper, cradling the spot where I'd hit her.

"Whew," I breathed out, reaching for the stereo and knocking the music up a notch, dancing along to the lyrics for a moment before reaching for the baggie with white powder inside. Placing it on the table and organizing it in a sleek line with my razor blade necklace, I pressed my nose to the table and inhaled the drug. The snorting was pretty painful, but the high that came after was always worth it.

"Help me," Liz croaked, voice barely a whisper as she weakly raised a hand to the door only to drop her exhausted limb against the carpet. "Please."

I dug my boot into her ribs and she wheezed at the impact. 

"Shut up, or I'll make this a lot more painful than it has to be," I warned her, feeling a sudden rise of goosebumps on my skin as my eyes shot open. "Ooh."

"Please-"

I swung the bat at her again, feeling a new-found energy that made me feel as if time had stopped altogether yet I was actually running at ten times my usual speed. I could almost see myself as some sort of drop-dead gorgeous super villain, and it felt fucking amazing.

Watching her squirm on the floor, I stepped over her until my boots were either side of my hips. I straddled her, watching as she refused to look up at me as I teased her by running my hands through her hair. I squished her cheeks together, loving the feeling that the fear in her eyes gave me.

"You always were pathetic," I spat, shoving her head aside. "Say goodnight."

"No!-"

I swung again and, this time, the impact was so fatal that a quick burst of blood splashed out of her skull and splattered the wall. Eh, it needed decorating anyway.

Quiet whimpers followed as I continually swung until it was silenced to gasps of air, and then there was nothing.

All that was needed for all evidence to be hidden was a quick call and then the men were over again, swiping the blood away and discarding of the body so quickly that I barely had time to recover. My fingertips were slick with blood and my face and torso was drenched with the stuff, so I quickly took a shower and threw away the clothing before going over to Jack's house.

He opened the door with a big grin, taking in my glowing appearance with such a loving stare that my knees became weak. 

"Hey," I whispered, voice hoarse.

"Hey, you," he cracked a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. His grin was just so contagious, I couldn't help myself.

He enveloped me in a hug and shut the door behind us, giving us the privacy that, after all that hard work, I truly deserved.

* * *

I LOVE MY CHARACTER SO FUCKING MUCH AND THIS BOOK IS LIKE MY BABY BC IM TRYING TO MAKE IT REALLY UNIQUE AND LIKE OFF THE RAILS AND I FEEL CONTENT ENOUGH TO SAY THAT I HAVE REACHED EXACTLY THAT