DERANGED (Jeff the Killer P.O.V and Romance)

8 - Condoms Prevent Pregnancy, Right?

"Quit that," I ordered, swatting at Sarah's hand as she wiped a cloth on the thin red cuts I had created. They continued to sting.

"I don't want them to get infected. Don't they hurt?"

"Yes, but I enjoy the pain."

She rolled her eyes, "Stop being such a weirdo for one second and let me help you."

I swatted her away again and stood up from the couch we were splayed upon, "No. I don't need, nor do I want your help. Just let it go."

She pouted, but accepted, "Fine," she too got up and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the kitchen, "I'm hungry. Make me food?"

I shook my head and released my hand from hers, "I have never made food in my life."

She smirked at my sarcasm and reached up at the wooden cabinet for a bag of cheddar chips, "Yeah, sure. But one of these days, you're going to make me food."

"That's never happening," I informed, leaning against the kitchen counter.

She shrugged, giving me a doubtful smile and continued to eat chips. I watched her, curious about her life after we had departed. The craving for the information clawed at my stomach and swelled in my chest. I had to know.

"Jeff, you're watching me again," she spoke, crunching on the chips, "What do you want to know?"

I shrugged, feeling awkward about asking her. She sighed and placed the small bag down, walking up to me. She then hopped onto the counter in a sitting position and layed her head on my shoulder, speaking sincerely.

"Whatever it is, you can ask me. I promise I won't get mad."

I looked up at her, absorbing her permission. Okay, here goes.

I sighed, standing in front of her and leaned back onto the island counter in the middle of the kitchen so we were facing each other, "After I stabbed you," guilt shot me through the chest, "What happened to you?"

She nodded as though she knew that's what I was going to ask, "Well, I fell, fast," she lightly chuckled before her face went serious, "And a rush of officers caught me. The pain in my gut was, unbearable, but after being hoisted into the ambulace, the pain stopped and I passed out due to the medicine. Uh, then I woke up in the hospital bed with a killer pain in my head, and the doctor told me I would be fine and, that was basically it. They did some more work, but that was it. After that, an old friend saw the incident on the news and when I was healed, she came to pick me up. I lived with her for a while before meeting Chris at a support group, and well, you know the rest pretty much."

I nodded, feeling better, "Oh. I'm sorry about the uh," I pointed to her stomach, "Stabbing."

She smiled and shook her head, "It was nothing; you had to. I figured that much."

It took a huge amount of weight off of my shoulders to know she wasn't upset about that. I studied her, her body language reading off nervousness. She scratched at the back of her neck and rubbed her palms on her jeans as they began to sweat. I wondered what was so terrifying to her, when a question I had been craving to ask popped into my head. I almost regretted to ask, but I had to. At least, I felt like I had to.

"Sarah," she jumped nervously at my voice.

"Uh," she smiled weakly at me and cleared her throat, "What is it?"

I tilted my head slightly, the question making my own heart bust out of my chest, the anxiety thumping in my skull like a crazed drum, "If you were only stabbed, and if I was correct in pin-pointing a non lethal area, why did the doctors work so deligently on you?"