Demi
As I lay on my couch, watching the ID Channel, my mind goes to Nick. Why am I thinking about him? He’s a criminal. How can I love someone that’s a criminal? I sigh. All I want to do is hug and kiss him and just be with him. I shake my head at the thought of being with him. I try to forget about him, but it’s just so hard when you live in the same building as him. Same floor, same hallway, just only a few doors apart from one another. I put my focus back on the TV.
As I start to drift off to sleep, I hear screaming and a gunshot. I run out to the hall to see what’s going on. Nick. He has a gun in his hand and a young boy on the ground dead. As soon as I think it was him, I see a man behind him running down the hall. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why isn’t Nick? Just as I finish my thought, Nick turns around, holds his gun up to the man running, and shoots him in the head. I gasp, making my way towards my door, but someone grabs my arm. I recognize the feeling. I turn around and see Nick.
“Call the cops for me,” he says. “Please. But don’t tell them I killed someone. I can’t have that charge under my belt.”
I sigh. “But what if they ask about the person? What if they come and see him dead?”
“I’ll take care of it,” he says. His eyes are dull. “I have a plan. Please just trust me. Please.” His lower lip is trembling.
I grab my phone out of my back pocket and call the police. I tell them that a little boy was shot and the shooter was dead, telling them the location of the incident. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe him. But he looked so hot holding that gun. I snap out of it. What am I doing? I can’t love him. I don’t love him. He’s just an old friend. That’s all he is, nothing more.
--
When the police show up, I stay, just to see what Nick’s plan is. I just hope he’s a good enough liar to get out of this. I knew he didn’t mean to kill the guy who shot the little boy. He isn’t that evil.
I over hear the conversation.
“Yes, I was here when the shooter shot the boy,” Nick says. “But I don’t know who shot him. There were too many people around to see what was happening. I just, I just don’t know.”
“But, sir, you have a gun in your hand,” one of the officers says, sternly. “Care to explain that?”
“I have it to use it as self-defense, if the shooter decided to attack me, or even use it if he attacked someone else.”
The police do know who Nick is already, but they do know that he would never kill anybody.
I start to go back into my apartment when the police are closing the scene off, but Nick stops me again. “Thank you,” he says. “But, can I stay with you? They blocked off my apartment.” He nods over to his door. I’m a little hesitant about this, because I never know what he could do to me when I’m asleep. I agree anyway and let him in.
--
“You can sleep in my room,” I tell him. “Just don’t go through any of my stuff, or steal anything, please.”
“I promise you I won’t do that. I would never do that to someone I care for.”
Wait, he cares for me, actually cares for me? Did I hear that right?
“Did you just say you cared for me?”
“Yes, I mean, I really do,” he starches behind his head. “I always did. It sucks knowing we grew apart. I am sorry for my actions, though, but I can’t promise I can change anytime soon.”
I sigh. I knew it. Once you get caught with one crime, you can’t stop. I grab an extra pillow and blanket from the closet and put it on the couch.
“I get it, Nick,” I say, choking on the words. “I don’t blame you for saying that. It’s better than promising you will and then you get caught again.”
--
As I lay on the couch, I think about what he said. But how can one just love a criminal? It’s impossible. I can’t think of him like that. No. Not after what has been going on in my life lately. I’m just been too busy with my trying to get my singing career to take off. I sigh and drift off to sleep.
