Heart Shaped Blood Stains (Jeff the Killer love story)

Chapter 21.

[unedited because i'm lazy]

It was like I could hear the cracking. A cracking, like the fast-spreading icy cover that was coating me as I sat paralyzed in shock. Everything had zeroed-out around me, almost like I had left my body for a few seconds -- seconds that felt like an eternity.

My hearing was like someone had turned a dial to lower the volume, and I watch as my eyes dilate while I zone out. I was becoming so mentally distant, that it took Kyle multiple tries to get me to snap back into the present. He begged me to speak, and to forgive him. He held me by the shoulders and cried as I looked beyond him, into a place where I tried to get a grasp on what was happening in my life. I didn't know what to think about.

The kills? Jeff? My parents? My injuries? School? Friends?

Did I have friends?

No. No, probably not. Who wants to friends with an insane orphan with a 'thing' for a serial killer?

Not me. I wouldn't blame them. I really wouldn't.

"Kate, please..." Kyle almost sobs, hanging his head as I stay mute.

Ha, he expects me to talk, I thought deep inside my mind. I look down to him with my burning eyes, and fill with boiling anger and hatred.

"What did you fucking say?" I say through gritted teeth. Kyle furrows his brows.

"I-I said 'Kate, please'."

"Not then." I snap. I swallow and try to mask my rage. "About my parents."

He lets out a puff of pressured air. He didn't want to say it again; he was scared. Not that I can blame him for that. He should be. Why would you tell your best friend that her parents gave up on her and left, when really, they're dead.

"Kate, I.... For some reason, I thought it would be better that way... I mean, with everything that happened with whoever that guy was, just telling you that your parents were dead... I thought it would be even worse than telling you they moved,"

"Fuck you." I spat.

With a shocked face, Kyle looks up to me. "W-?"

"Shut up." I interrupt. "You're sick, Kyle. Really. Telling your struggling friend that their parents gave up on them? But really they're dead? How could that possibly be better?!"

He was speechless; in a blunder with what words to say to mend what he had done.

"What happened to them?!" I scream, throwing his hands off of my lap as I stand to my feet.

"They.... They..."

"Spit it out, Kyle. For fuck's sake,"

"W-well, when they found out you ran away with a serial killer, they..."

"THEY WHAT?"

"Basically, they crashed into a pond and drowned when they tried to drive over here..."

I almost topple over with sickness. Knowing that my parents died; knowing that they suffered... Because of me. They crashed, drove into a pond, and slowly sank, trapped inside of the vehicle. Their lungs slowly, tediously filled with water and there was nothing to do about it. They just waited to die. And for what? Me.

"Does anyone know how this happened?" I manage to squeak out, feeling my throat tight and achy.

"The police talked to some investigators that were there, and they told me that something must've ran out in the middle of the road and scared them. And when they swerved, they lost control and wrecked into the pond."