dark side. || r.s.l.

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part three.
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     Ross's story was insane. When he was done talking, I was speechless. I didn't believe him. But I also did. And I had had the worst morning ever — woke up with makeup on, dry skin and a spider in my bathroom. And now this.

     The radio filled the heavy silence that had fallen.

     "Last night around half past midnight, a man was murdered in his own house. His wife was the one who found him, on the kitchen floor. The man had been threatened before. The killer, who left no evidence for the police to find him whatsoever, used cyanid to put the man down, and eventually cut his neck. Cyanid is a very dangerous poison, that can kill a grown man within fifteen minutes. There was a knife missing from the kitchen, possibly the murder weapon that the killer took with him. The poison was mixed in the man's red wine. Family and friends confirmed that the victim always drank the same wine, so the killer must have known the man for quite a while. More news on our website. And now the weather, with..."

     "Get out of my house," I just said. His eyes widened.

Damn it. Puppy eyes.

     "But—" he stuttered. "I have nowhere else to go!"

     "I don't want to get involved in your shit!" I yelled. I was scared. Really scared. Even more scared of him than I was of the spider that was probably partying under my bed at that moment.

     "You already are involved!" he yelled back. He didn't seem afraid. Ross isn't the kinda guy that gets frightened easily.

     I got up and walked to the door. I opened it, and pointed at the hallway. "Get out."

     He stood up, too, and closed the door. "No."

     "Ross, go," I said. I felt tears burning behind my eyes. He's dangerous, a voice in my head told me.

     I looked up at him. His brown eyes reflected determination, firmness. Stubbornness. The smell of cinnamon mixed with coffee filled my nose. He had taken a shower. When? I was so confused.

     "I'm not really like that," Ross whispered. I stared at his face. His dark eyes showing no fear, his eyebrows permanently furrowed, his lips in a slight frown. The face of a murderer.

"What do you mean, you're not really like that?" I asked. This guy is crazy. "You killed someone, Ross! But you're not really a killer? Okay, yeah, I work at the bakery — but I'm not really a baker. What the fuck?"

     "I did it for my mother," he said, completely ignoring my words.

     Ross had told me that his mum had gotten into drugs. It had ruined her. She wanted to quit, but the guy who sold her the drugs didn't let her. She threatened to go to the police, but the guy killed her. The guy killed Ross's mother and now Ross killed him.

"I'm not a killer. I'm a revenge-taker."

     "Get the fuck out of here," I cried. Ross didn't move.

     "You're a murderer!" I yelled. Ross's eyes widened at my comment. But I was right.

      "I did it for my mother!" he exclaimed. "I lost her! I needed to get my anger out!"

     "Get out!" I yelled. I had never been this frightened before. What if they find him? Will they take me, too? Am I illegal now? I don't even know this guy that well. God, I never should've helped him. But I was so tired. I didn't know. I couldn't know.

     I don't know.

     "I can't go anywhere," he said, quietly. Was he crying? I looked at him. No, he wasn't crying.

     "The apartment I used to live in, it's... They shut it down, Dylan. I've lived with my sister for three months. She kicked me out when I told her my plan. My backpack is all that I have."

     Dylan, you weak piece of shit, I told myself. It's the puppy eyes. You fell for a pair of puppy eyes.

     "Fine, stay," I sighed. My throat hurt from crying and yelling. Worst morning ever.

     Ross looked at me. I felt his arms wrap around me, but I pushed him away.

     "But don't think that I actually like you," I said, trying to seem intimidating. But Ross was still taller, and it's difficult to seem intimidating to someone who's taller than you are. "You have a month to find a new house. If you're not gone by then, I'll still kick you out."

And with that, I turned around and walked to my bedroom. I shut the door and sat on my bed.

Do you ever have one of those days where you're just like, what the fuck? the whole time? Yeah, that was one of those days.