No Way Out ➵ John Murphy

05 //

FIVE.
❝we are survivors of the wild.❞

They had become civil after her mental breakdown. He showered and shaved off his overgrown beard, she made him food and acted as if everything was okay. The pillow wall on the bed was back in effect. She slept on one side, he slept on the other, and they didn't dare touch each other.

Murphy claimed he had stopped watching those videos but she knew it was a lie. They would go to bed and when Murphy assumed Layla was asleep, he would sneak out of the room and be gone for hours. She didn't know why he subjected himself to the videos, they were disturbing.

Tonight, she decided to follow him after he left the bedroom, to confirm if her suspicions were correct. There wasn't much else he could be doing, it wasn't like he could leave the bunker.

Murphy crawled out of bed and padded quietly out of the room, shutting the door as softly as he could. Layla pretended she was asleep, just as she did every night before. But after a few minutes, she stood up out of the bed, too and headed for the living room.

He was sprawled out on the couch, staring at the TV, watching the videos she predicted he would be. But it wasn't a new video, it was one she had seen before. The one Murphy told her she didn't want to see. The one where the man shoots himself. Layla thought maybe he had finished all the videos and was starting them from the beginning but instead, he just watched that first video on a loop. Again and again, the unknown man shot himself and every time Layla shut her eyes tightly so she didn't have to witness it. Why was he doing this?

"Murphy?" She said quietly. "What are you doing?"

He turned to her, slowly. She didn't miss how he brought his sleeve up to wipe his face. His eyes were a blotchy, bright red. He has been crying.

Layla took a seat next to him and paused the television, just before the man took the gun to his head another time.

She touched his face, wiping away the left over tears. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy."

"I know you're just gonna tell me 'I can do whatever the hell I want' but I don't understand why you want to do this."

"I don't know." He shook her hands away. "I feel like there's something I need to know."

"You've watched all the videos twice, maybe more," Layla told him. "If there was something you needed to know, you'd know it."

"Why are you being so nice?" Murphy said with a grunt. "If it was you out here acting like a pussy, I'd make a dig and probably leave you here."

"That's because I'm actually a good person. Realize it."

"I know you are," he sighed. "That's what sucks. You make it so hard to be mean to you."

Layla laughed. "Well you still do a good job."

Murphy's lips twitched. "That's because I'm Murphy. I'm an asshole. It's who I am."

She rolled her eyes. "The first step to getting better is realizing you have a problem. At least you're making progress."

"I don't want to get better. I like who I am."

Layla stifled a chuckle. "I think you're the only one."

"Anyway," Layla changed the subject after Murphy shot her a glare. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you... or are you just gonna bottle it up and keep breaking down in the living room by yourself?"

Murphy pushed himself off the couch with a stretch . "I'm gonna go with the second option. I'm feeling a little tired, I'm gonna go back to bed."

"You can't escape me," she followed in his footsteps down the hall. "It's my bed, too."