murder || harry lewis

ten

i got up the next morning and walked downstairs, assuming that was where harry was as he wasn't in bed or the bathroom when i woke.

i went down the back staircase, and he wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, so i went to go up the front staircase, opposite the front door.

the hall was cold and i noticed the front door was open, so i hesitantly peered around, but i retracted my self upon hearing harry shout "fuck." after a gunshot.

there was another gunshot and a man's voice screamed, so i grabbed the spare gun i had, fortunately located in the chest of draws by the door, and stepped out cautiously,

"stop."

the two boys' heads snapped up to me, one harry and the other one from the gang.

harry's spare hand was pressed to his arm, covered in blood, his other hand tightly gripping the pistol.

the other guy's hand was pressed to the side of his stomach, his other hand gripping his own pistol equally as tightly.

"fuck off."

both harry and i had our guns trained on him, so he listened to my blunt words and began running away, his back to us.

i scoffed at his stupidity and pulled the trigger, the bullet going straight into the middle of his back, and i was grateful that this house had no other neighbours for at least half a kilometre.

he fell to the ground and i turned to harry, his face pale and hands desperate as they pressed to his upper arm.

"come on." i said softly, the two of us walking into my house and dropping the guns before i closed the door and lead him into the bathroom.

"sit on the counter." i said softly and he did so.

i took his shirt off him to be able to see the wound; which was fortunately just where the bullet had grazed his arm, though it was quite deep.

i pressed a delicate kiss to harry's lips, before grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cupboard, handing it to him.

"this might hurt, enjoy." i said and he began to swig from the bottle.

i got disinfectant wipes and gently cleaned his arm from blood, before grabbing his hand and allowing him to squeeze mine as i moved onto tho cut which was still bleeding pretty heavily.

harry winced and squeezed my free hand tightly, taking another drink of vodka, and i got a bandage and held it to the wound, absorbing the blood.

he let go of my hand and i grabbed my phone, dialling 999.

"please, ambulance, there's a guy at the end of my road, i think he's dead, and my friend, he-he's got a bullet wound." i faked desperation and gave my address, before hanging up.

i changed harry's bandage, tying this one on and getting him to press it down, "so, i'll say i woke up and heard gunshots and came outside and saw three people. you, him, and the other gang member, okay? the two of them had guns, the one who shot you shot him in the back and the stomach, and drove off in a black car." i told him.

"you're a good liar." he managed a smirk.

he followed me as i walked into the hall and grabbed my gun, returning it to its hiding place in the chest of drawers, before grabbing the gun i gave to harry and hiding it, too.

i ran to the other guy and grabbed his gun and bringing it into my house as i hid it.

"you need to say you were awake before me and came downstairs, when you saw that guy walking past, and a car suddenly pulled up and you heard a gunshot and you came out to see the two guys fighting down here, this one with a stomach wound, and you tried to stop them, but the one with the car shot at you, grazing your arm, and as this guy turned to you, the other guy shot him in the back too, then got in his car and drove off, just as i came out."

i ran down the driveway and sat with the dead guy, gently taking his hand and pretending to cry, the ambulance pulling up a minute later and getting him, harry, and myself in.