How to Be Cliche (A Novel)

(26) Help Me Smile

Short, but sweet. ;)

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I stared down at Hunter in horror as he rolled onto his side, gasping for air.

                  "You...you...you..." I looked back and forth between Ronny's "bedazzler" and Hunter's bleeding chest. "You shot him! With a gun! Not a water gun! A....a real gun! He's dying! We have to help him!" I started to rip off my sweatshirt to apply pressure to Hunter's wound, when I tripped over the wrench that Hunter had dropped and fell right onto Hunter's body, eyes inches from his wound. The unbearable stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils. I reeled backwards, jumping ungracefully onto my feet and crashing into my father's work bench, knocking over many screw drivers and other tools.

                  "He's....evaporating!" I shouted. "He's melting like the Wicked Witch of the West! Or maybe this is just a phase and he'll turn into freaking dust! How am I going to clean this up? My parents would never let me bring their award winning vacuum out here where there's probably rat shit all over the place that I can't see. He's going to die! I'm a witness! I'm a witness! I'm a loud witness who cracks under pressure! I'll crack like a freaking chestnut on Christmas if I'm questioned by the police about this! I can't be on your side, Ronny! I can't be on anyone's side! I'm a criminal now, aren't I?!" I got on my knees, my hands up in prayer and my head tilted upwards towards the ceiling. "God Almighty, I know I haven't spoken to you in a while but if you could just let this one thing slide. I know I've asked for a clean slate many times, especially after that one time I accidently..." I briefly looked at Ronny--"Never mind. The point is, God--"

                  "Honey, enough!" Ronny shook me many times until my eyes weren't glazed over with shock. "Get your cute little butt out of his shed and calm down."

                  "Knock it off? Knock it off? I can't breathe! I'm a killer! You're a killer! I watched you kill, therefore I am partially the killer for not stopping it! Right?" I shoved Ronny off of me, stumbling out of the shed and gasping for air. "It's both of you, isn't it? You and freaking Sketch-Gar, smiling all around town with your bedazzler gun and Gary's intimidating black eye liner! Oh god, I'm friends-- ex friends, with killers, and now I'm a killer for not even killing! Ahhh!"

                  "Pepper! Get a hold of yourself!" Ronny half whispered, slapping me lightly across the mouth. "I'm the one that shot Hunter! Not you! I would be the one that would get in trouble, not you! And for the record, he's not even evaporating, babe! That was just the silver in the bullet reacting with his blood and melting through his skin."

                  Now I was hyperventilating. "Then is he melting? Do fang people melt?" I did the sign of the cross multiple times. "God Almighty, we don't even own a mop! I need a mop! Please God, please! Mom broke the only one we had last Christmas trying to kill a spider!"

                  Ronny pocketed his bedazzler gun. "It's only an minor argon projectile thin cylinder with a stylish bedazzled case. It stuns werewolves for a few minutes before it disintegrates into their blood. I could have done a lot worse."

                  "You could have done a lot worse?" I shrieked. "What the hell are you and Gary, Ronny? Why did you come to my house? Do you have any idea what Gary did to me?"

                  Ronny only looked at me.

                  "Well?" I pressed.

                  "Besides the fact that the Magic Mike DVD Gary put in for me somehow broke my television in half, I can't tell you. Just stay away from us. Stay away from Gary, he'll hurt you next time without thinking twice. I'm serious."