All We Are Is Bullets// g.w. a.u. (✔)

Without a Sound

After dropping off Frank first, Ray, Mikey, and then throwing up in the park from all the alcohol I had, I got to the apartment. I put the key in the lock and opened the door. All the lights were off so I shuffled across the hardwood floor before getting to the light switch. I turned it on and noticed that everything was a mess. There were blood spots on the floor leading to the bedroom from the couch, there were slits in the couch and the stuffing inside was coming out, a chair from the kitchen table was overturned and another was facing the living room. I then noticed something else. The biggest knife, one that resembled the one used in Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho, was missing from the set on the counter. My breathing started to pick up. I practically ran down the hall and into the bedroom.

That when I saw her. Kristen was on the floor by the foot of our bed with blood surrounding her. She was laying on her stomach and had a huge blood stain on the back of her white tank top near the center of her back. I started having trouble breathing. Kristen, the one who I said in front of two living people that I would kill, is dead in my apartment. I'm the only one who had the key to the apartment beside her.

I started getting nervous. Should I call Frank? No, Frank is out cold. Ray would tell me to notify the police. Mikey would freak out.

Hazel.

Call Hazel.

I walked out of the bedroom and pulled out the piece of paper from the jacket and dialed it into the phone on the kitchen wall.

She answered almost instantly. "Hello?"

"Hazel," I said, trying to keep myself together.

"Gerard? Is that you?"

"Yeah," I said, sniffing.

"What's wrong?"

"You know th-that girl I told you about earlier? Kr-Kr-Kristen?" I started crying.

"Yeah, what happened?"

"She's. . . she's d-dead. Someone killed her while I was out."

"Okay, okay, okay. Calm down, Gerard. It's okay. You didn't do it."

"I know b-but before I left earlier today I told her th-that I would kill her. And there are two witnesses still alive that heard me say it."

"Who?"

"My friend and the guy she was. . . sleeping with."

"Okay, but your friend knew you didn't do it."

"My friend is out cold. He wouldn't k-know anything. Hazel, look. I just. . . need your help."

"With what?"

"Help me get rid of the body. Please."

"Are you insane, Gerard? If you do that then they'll really suspect you."

I started crying again. "Hazel, please! They'll blame me. They'll blame me for it. I'll get sent to prison and I know what they do to guys like me in prison. I don't want to go there."

She sighed and said nothing. Finally, she spoke up. "Fine. I'll help you. Tell me your address."

..........

Hazel came ten minutes later with her car. She knocked on the door and I stopped my worried pacing around the front room and went to answer it. I looked at her when I opened the door and noticed she changed out of her blue dress from earlier and into black jeans, combat boots, a long sleeve black t-shirt, gloves, and had her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, a couple strands of hair framing her pale complexion.

Black was definitely her color.

She threw off her backpack and said, "I got rocks. Do you have a rug? Not like a tiny rug. Like a huge floor rug."

"Why do you have rocks?"

She put the backpack back on. "For the body. Do you have a  rug?" she asked again.

I nodded. I did, in fact, have a floor rug that Kristen bought from Walmart. It was also in the room where Kristen was.

"Great. Okay. Give me some of your bed sheets too."

I walked into the bedroom and Hazel followed. "Oh, God," Hazel exclaimed as she saw the body. She walked over to her and examined it. "It's really bad," she stated. "No problem, I know how to clean this up and act like nothing happened."

I was going to give Hazel the bed sheets and the pillowcases from the closet in the bedroom but she stopped me. "Actually, no. I don't want you touching the sheets." She went to the closet and grabbed some. Then, she opened up her bag and quickly went to work putting the rocks into the pillow cases and put those on the stab wounds. She then wrapped the body up in the big sheet. "Okay," she said. "Can you help me roll her up in this rug?"

I nodded and made my way over to her. She put Kristen at one end and started rolling. I helped her and once it was finished, she explained that we'll need to carry it out and into the backseat of her car.

Once Kristen was in there, Hazel got into the driver's seat, took off her gloves, and took off her backpack. I got into the passenger's seat and she looked at me. "Let's go to the river."

"With the body?!" I asked frantically.

"How else did you want to get rid of it?"

That shut me up. I stared out the window in silence as Hazel drove to the Hudson River that splits New York and New Jersey. She parked near the lake so we had a small walk to the dumping site. The only problem we had was the traffic on the road right by us.

"Let's just hurry and get this done," I heard Hazel say as she got her gloves back on. I nodded and followed her. She opened the back door and got one end of the rug while I carried the other. We were rushing, hoping that a police officer wasn't watching us right now.

Luckily, we made it to the lake and Hazel told me to set the rug down.

"Why?" I asked as I did it.

"So we can act natural. We can dump her when there aren't so many cars driving by."

We waited about three more minutes before Hazel whispered, "Now." I let go of one side and watched as Kristen roll out of the rug and plop into the lake.

She also sank.

"That's what the rocks were for. They were heavy. They'll keep her on the bottom until she's unrecognizable and they have to do tests."

I looked at her. "How did you know what to do?"

She ignored my question. "We're not done yet. We still have to get rid of the rug. Hope you still don't want it." She pulled out a flashlight from her bag, examined it, and said, "I think we're good. None of the blood got on the rug thanks to the layers of rocks and sheets."

She started rolling it back up and I helped her carry it back to her car. We put it in the back and started driving back to Belleville. "So," she started. "I was thinking. Since trash pick-up day is tomorrow, let's pick a lucky person to hold on to this rug for us until the trash men come and pick it up to destroy it."

We found our victim and Hazel parked the car. "They come to pick the trash up super early so hopefully, they won't see the mysterious rug outside their house."

We dropped it off and hurried back into the car. Hazel started driving off and went back to my apartment complex. "I'll help you clean it up. That is if you want."

"No," I said. "It's late. Really late. Go home and get some sleep. I'll call tomorrow if I still need something."

She sighed and looked at me. "Alright, Gerard. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Hazel." I got out of the car and she drove off.