My Little Murder

Chapter 17 - Red

My birthday came and went over the next few days, and I never left my room. I ate little and drank less, and I could tell I was becoming sick. But I didn't care. I deserved everything I got.

They shouldn't have let me out of the hospital. They thought I was ready; I thought I was ready. But clearly I wasn't, and I should've known. But I was stupid, naïve, and believed that I could actually have a chance at a real life.

He was still in hospital. He was unconscious, and I didn't think he'd be waking up any time soon because of what I did. Sure, he wasn't dead, but was that an excuse for me to pass the blame off to someone else. No, I couldn't do that. I wouldn't.

I didn't want to see him, either. What if Charlie was angry at me for putting him there? What if he woke up and accused me of overreacting, and blamed everything on me? What if everything changed as soon as I went to that hospital? I wasn't ready to deal with that much change, not yet. Give me a few years. But I couldn't avoid it for that long.

Pax was taking me out today, much to my disgust. He promised me there wouldn't be any other people around, and that I could wear my track pants. At the first sight of any human beings, I was making a run for it.

So we got in the car and headed out to wherever Pax was driving to. It was quiet and nobody spoke, which was both perfect and annoying because it left me alone with my thoughts. A terrifying and rather derisive situation; one that I found myself in constantly.

When we pulled up, the first thing I did was turn to Pax with my eyes wide.

"You promised," I hissed, but he just turned the car off and opened his door, getting out without saying a word. I stared after him, feeling betrayed. We were parked outside that café that Rye took me to the first day I met him, and I could see Charlie sitting inside, looking like a mess herself. But I refused to give in; I wasn't ready to talk to Charlie, and I certainly wasn't ready to enter a place where there were people. So instead of getting out, I shrunk back into the car seat and crossed my arms over my chest, listening to my heartbeat. It was racing, like always. A feeling I was used to.

But Pax didn't seem to care that I wasn't following him; he walked into the café, sat down opposite Charlie and they started talking. I guessed that neither of them expected me to even get out of the car, which was why they weren't forcing me. That annoyed me, to be honest. They knew it did. They were counting on it.

It was about ten minutes later that I sighed in annoyance and got out of the car, shoving my hands in my pockets before trudging over to the door of the café with a scowl plastered on my face. I wasn't going to enjoy this, I knew I wasn't.

I opened the door and it jingled loudly, turning heads in my direction. I shrunk back into my jumper and made a beeline for Charlie and Pax, scooting in the booth beside my brother with my head down.

"Hi Liv," Charlie said finally, her voice soft. I flinched, glancing up at her. She looked tired, definitely, but when she saw my face, I saw her eyes widen. I knew I looked horrible; I didn't want to make an effort because I wasn't expecting there to be any people around. I should learn not to take Pax's word for things like that in the future.

"Hey," I murmured back, leaning forward and resting my head in my arms that lay on the table.

"How are you?"

"How are you?" I shot back, my voice muffled from its position in my arms. "It was your brother."

"It is my brother," Charlie corrected me, and I lifted my head to look at her. "And he is your friend. You should come see him."

"I can't," I replied, sighing as I leant back in my seat. "I just... I can't."

"We're here for you, Liv," Charlie assured me, reaching over the table to squeeze my hand. "If you want to talk about it, we are always here to listen."

"I don't like talking about it," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. "He almost died because I talked about it. Never again."

"Liv," Pax announced, and I glanced at him.

"Yeah?"

"I think we should talk," he admitted finally, pursing his lips. I glanced down at his fingers, which were tapping nervously on the table. I looked back up at my brother, a frown forming on my face.

"What about?" I asked, looking over to Charlie momentarily. "Pax?"

"I just... I want you to think about what you're doing," he sighed, biting his lip. "I mean, don't you think you should go see Rye? What if he wakes up?"

"Then he wakes up," I replied dumbly. "Do I need to be there for it? And he'll ask questions... I just can't give him the answers he wants. I'm sorry."

"Then you don't have to," Charlie piped up. "He'll understand; when he wakes up, I'll let you know, and you can come in to see him. He won't ask questions, I'm sure."

I paused, watching Charlie cautiously. "Aren't you mad at me?" I asked after a moment's hesitation, and Charlie frowned at me.

"Why on earth would I be mad at you?" she asked incredulously, her eyes wide. "You've done nothing wrong!"

"I almost killed your brother," I shot back icily. "Surely you're pissed off; I would be."

"I could never be mad, Liv," she assured me with an encouraging smile. It was tired, but it was also genuine. "It was clearly an accident; you didn't hit him, okay? It was some idiot who didn't know how to drive. How could I ever be angry at you for that?"

I hesitated. She kind of had a point.

"Just, promise you'll go see him when he gets better?" Pax prompted. I glanced sideways at him, rubbing my forehead tiredly.

"Fine," I sighed. "But don't-"

Suddenly, Pax reached out and grabbed my right wrist, yanking it forward. I yelped as I struggled to regain my wits, glancing at my brother when the opportunity arose. He was staring at my fist, eyes wide. My own eyes flickered down to follow his gaze, and I stiffened when I saw.

"What happened?" he demanded, returning his fearful gaze to me. I swallowed visibly.

"Idontremember," I mumbled, and Pax leaned closer.

"What?"

"I don't remember," I hissed, yanking my arm back. My voice was shaky, but what I said was true. I didn't remember.

And I had a feeling that wasn't a good thing.

*

Pax dropped me off at home before he drove off to meet Charlie at the hospital. I guess he thought I wasn't much of a threat by myself anymore; what was the worst I could do?

The first thing I did was enter my room, which had become my haven over the past few days. I went to sit at my desk, pulling my chair in closer to the table. I then looked up, making eye contact with my reflection in the mirror. Her face was all over the place; it was separated into so many irregularly shaped sections, with a splodge of red in the centre. I looked down at my hand, then back up at the mirror.

Why did it hurt when he wasn't around? God, I missed him so much. It had only been a few days, but it felt like forever because I hadn't heard a word from him in those days, at all. I didn't know what he was thinking, how he was feeling, anything. I had nothing to go on but the fact that he was injured and unresponsive, and I had a big part in that. But could I really go on blaming it on myself? Was I truly responsible, or was Charlie right? Was I not to blame? Was it the driver?

Sighing, I got up and wandered out of my room, coming into the kitchen where I pulled my phone out of my pocket and set it on the bench. I moved to the fridge next, just opening it at looking at the insides, as if I expected better food to just appear the longer I stared. I didn't feel hungry, but something was telling me I needed to eat.

My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and I abandoned the fridge with a sigh as I made for my device. I picked it up, checked the screen and was very, very still.

It took a few seconds for me to break, and everything from then on was red.