Murderer

Chapter 30: Ryan

I heard the screeching that sounded like Christopher's mother from upstairs, causing my heart to leap. I was so freaked out, what's happening up there?! I looked over at Christopher, and he looked alarm, ready to jump up and kill whatever caused her fear. He still really cared his parents. I guess he isn't completely heartless.

"Maybe it's just a mouse." He looked at me, and I just nodded. I didn't want it to be anything else, unless that somebody else was just going to kill Christopher and let me go. I wanted to run back to my house, hug my dad. Tell him I was sorry for everything. Then I would run to Brendon, and not let go. We could go back to the pond, hang out like we used to. Just me, him, and the nature that surrounded us.

"What are you doing here, aren't you the dead boy?" It was a man's voice, but it was most likely his father's voice. There is definitely somebody else up here. But what dead boy? Isn't Christopher the dead one that was actually alive? I could feel my heart racing in my chest, I didn't know what was about to happen and it made me really anxious.

He lounged up from his sitting position, dropping the wooden dagger. He instead optioned for a real dagger and a gun. He showed me the gun one time, back when we first moved into this house, and said if anything went south, that I was going to be shot point blank in the face. The image of my face torn up by a bullet, making me unidentifiable by the face haunted me. I didn't want my dad to see that, nor Brendon.

Slowly making his way up the stairs, Christopher gave me one last look that basically told me to stay there and not say anything or else. But once his back turned to me, I grabbed the wooden dagger, cutting the rope that held my wrists together and then the rope tied around my legs.

The door was open now, and I heard the sound of a dart hitting the wall above. Then there was choking sounds. Christopher lounged out of the basement, out into the openness of his parent's living room but stopped in his tracks. I heard his mother say his name, surprised and confused at the same time.

Inching my way up the stairs, I was scared, but also happy. His mother would see me, and that would be it. I would be saved, Christopher can be locked away forever and I wouldn't ever have to see him again hopefully. This was the end of my imprisonment, and the start of my new life.

That new life started with the first person I saw when I reached the top of the stairs. It wasn't the police. It wasn't another madman. It wasn't just a random neighbor. It wasn't a mouse. It was Brendon. He was holding a knife in his hand, pointing it at Christopher and his mother.

I looked over to the doorway that led to the kitchen. I felt a cold shiver go through my spine at the sight. Christopher's father was just hanging there by a knife that was thrown at his heart, stuck to the wall. His head was hanging there, looking at the knife. Blood was pouring from his mouth. His arms and legs dangling.

I looked back at Brendon who was still aiming the knife at Christopher and his mother. I had no words. It was in that moment that I forgot how to speak. My best friend had just killed an innocent person. But why? It was Christopher who did this to me, not his parents. It freaked me out, I just wanted to go back to that day in chemistry class when we were both daydreaming about the pond. He was about to kill Christopher's mother. I had to stop him, tell him that she wasn't involved.

"Brendon, don't. It wasn't her, she didn't know we were down there." I looked him in the eyes, but it was no use. I couldn't see into him, not like I used to be able to. There was a wall blocking my path.

"Sorry Ryan, but I have to. Just stay there, I'm going to get you out of here." When he spoke, he meant to be sincere, but it just sounded scripted and not meaningful.

"NO BRENDON, DON'T!" I screamed, but it was too late. A knife was thrown across the room, and she too was strung up on the wall by a knife. I couldn't believe what I had just saw. Is this really happening. I looked back at Brendon. He wasn't the old Brendon, I barely recognized him, he was completely somebody different on the inside.

I watched as Christopher and Brendon brawled. First it was them avoiding each others knives. Brendon was able to get in a few swipes, and he was pretty lucky about not getting hit back until Christopher lashed a deep cut on his face, knocking Brendon down.

Christopher took out his gun. "I've got you right where I want you." He had it pointed at Brendon's face, which was covered in blood that was seeping from his wound. I saw the fear in his eyes. I saw my Brendon. The one scared of the bigger and more frightening kids at school.

I ran up to Christopher, using my only strength to knock him over, but he gripped onto that gun for dear life, and he never let go of it. Right when I thought I was going to get shot, Brendon pushed me off of Christopher, and I landed some feet away.  They began rolling around on the floor, Brendon was trying to unwrap Christopher's hands from the gun while on top of him.

There's that perfect moment that you only see in the movies, that one moment where you go "oh that's so cliché" and proceed to dismiss it. It was too easy, too setup for that moment to be real. If only that was the way I could always see those moments, but that innocent time of my life was over.

The gun went off. Like I expected it to. But it wasn't pointed at Brendon nor at Christopher. But at the doorway that led to freedom. Or in everyone else's case, the outdoors. I just hoped nobody was standing there. But when Brendon's eyes grew the size of the moon, I knew all hope was shattered for a happy ending.

"Oh shit, Ryan." He looked over at me, tears in his eyes. He just shook his head in shame, and I could see the anger fill in his eyes before he began wrestling with Christopher again before knocking him out with the gun.

I slowly walked up to the front door, which revealed my father, dead on the bottom of the steps. He had fell backwards, and his legs were still draped on some of the steps. His head had banged against the bottom of steps and blood dripped from a crack in his skull, along with a bullet hole right in the middle of his forehead. A pool of blood formed around his head.

I felt like I was chained up by the hands and legs again. I couldn't bring myself to move. I fell to my knees, unable to see through the tears welled in my eye ducts. I had truly lost everything today.