Killer Can't Kill Me (Jeff the Killer fanfiction) *COMPLETED*

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Juliet POV

I left work, exhausted and frustrated. Pulling in our driveway, I turned off the ignition. It had been two weeks since the Jeff fiasco. Opening the car door, yanking out my, purse, then slamming the car door, I entered the house. Mom was at work. The clock on the stove read six fifty-three. I had another meeting with the shrink tomorrow, and I planned on skipping it. Therapy sucks. Mom says I have to stop balling up me emotions, but she really just doesn't want to deal with me. The shrink even told me that my reactions weren't crazy, I just didn't scare easy. I hardly even get how my reactions to my attack were abnormal. Who freaking cares? With a long huff of annoyance, I walked into my room, going straight to my bathroom. I ditched my work clothes and showered, then pulled on a white bathrobe. My hair was heavy when it was wet and tangled from scrubbing my head, so I ran a brush through it. I opened my bathroom door, and the first thing you noticed was my bedroom door was shut. Then the figure sitting on my bed came into view. I was Jeff. He stared at me, looking tired and depressed, despite his wide eyes. My stomach twisted into knots, my heart pounded, though I felt little fear.

"Uhm......."

"Hello Juliet" he said in a low voice.

"W-Why are you here?" I asked, finding my voice. The question came out quite and nervous.

"I don't know honestly" he said, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"C-Can you please g-go?" I whispered.

"I won't hurt you" Jeff said earnestly. He laid down on my bed, stretching out. The guy smelled bad, even from across the room.

"If you want to lay down on my bed, you need to get cleaned up" I said, wrinkling my nose. He chuckled, sitting up.

"Will you call the police again?"

"No" I said, surprising myself. He wasn't being hostile. The images of dozens of news stories and pictures entered my mind. Did he really kill all the people?

"Are you lying?"

"No."

"Hmm. Well, I have nothing to change into" he said slowly.

"You could wear my Dad's old clothes" I blurted. He raised an eyebrow, then laughed.

"I'll stick to my own garb" Jeff said calmly.

"Ok, well, at least sit on the floor." He obeyed, sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at me. "Er........" I muttered, sitting cross-legged, just like him, in front of him.

"Why do you paint such morbid paintings?" He asked curiously, suddenly holding the painting of him and I.

"I don't know" I said, matching his tone. He laughed, and held the painting in his lap, tracing his face with his index finger.

"You really don't know?" He questioned.

"I guess I just like making my own tiny worlds. The paintings all have a tiny story, and I bring that story to life. I guess." My face grew warm from admitting something so personal. Jeff watched me, almost surprised. Why am I even sitting here? But I knew why I was sitting here, I felt....safe.

"How did you lose it?" he asked randomly.

"Lose what?" I was confused.

"Innocence" he said calmly.

"Errrr..........I saw my father get murdered by someone" I said, shutting my eyes tightly. Unwanted memories crashed into my waking mind, things I had repressed for the past six months. Curling up in a ball, I rocked back and forth, hugging my knees. My head pounded, I moaned as the unwanted memories flooded into my head.