Musical One Shots

RichJake: What the fUck rIChArD

This is really bad because I don't feel like actually trying right now, sue me.

Rich's POV

Go over there and play Seven Minutes in Heaven with them.

I grip my head tighter with my hands, trying not to give in to the SQUIP's commands.

No! Can you turn off for one minute?!

SQUIP paused. To activate again, use the command "activate".

I get up and wander around the house.

What the fuck am I doing, turning off my SQUIP? I'm worthless without a SQUIP. I'm not strong enough. I'm not popular enough. I have a goddamn lisp. The SQUIP can change that, but not permanently..

I need to find a match and gasoline.

I run by a couple rooms to get to the kitchen, hearing people moaning in them. Oh jeez.. When I get to the kitchen, I open and close drawers frantically. Everybody's drunk except for me, so nobody questions me. After about five minutes (the kitchen is big lol), I find a box of matches and shove them into my pocket.

As soon as I find the matches, I run to the garage. Gasoline. Where is it. Oh, it's over there. I struggle to get around in the messy garage, but I eventually get the gasoline out.

Wanting to die as soon as possible, I dump out all of the gasoline onto the floor so that it will for sure kill me.

I take the matches out from my pocket and hold one against the box, ready to strike. I close my eyes, second guessing what I'm about to do. But I have to do it. To make everyone's life better.

I strike the match and stare at the flame. Do I really want to die this way? I can still turn back..

Just then, Jake bursts through the door. Startled, I drop the match right into the gasoline. Wait, I don't want this anymore!

The smell of burning flesh fills me and I start sobbing. I can't move.

Jake spots me and yells my name, but I don't hear him. The left side of my body burns. It hurts, it hurts...

I scream for somebody to help me. Jake yells for me to move out of the gasoline before the fire gets to the cars. I take three steps away from the fire, still crying. Just enough for Jake to grab me gently.

Jake is holding his phone to his ear, calling 911. He speaks quickly, "Yes, hello. There is a fire in the garage of my house. The address is *********. Please hurry."

He carries me outside to the lot across the street, in case the house does blow.

Jake leaves me there for a little bit to warn everybody in the house about the fire. I soon see seventy-ish people running and screaming around the house. The fire has reached the kitchen. The stove. Oh my God.

Just as I start worrying, I see Jake run out of the house, carrying a girl named Christine. I feel a ping of jealousy for some reason.

The firemen and ambulances get here a little too late. The entire house is on fire, and there are a shit load of teenagers standing outside. Jake stands by me until a nurse can get me an ambulance.

A few minutes later, an ambulance pulls into the driveway and a couple of nurses help me onto the stretcher. Jake gets in the ambulance with me once the nurses secured me onto the bed.

On the ride to the hospital, all I can feel is guilt and pain. I look over to Jake, who is sitting beside me, just staring at me. "Jake," I say in a raspy voice. He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head ever so slightly, indicating that he is listening to me. I start crying again, blaming only myself for what happened, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to- I just.. I'm so sorry."

A tear runs down Jake's face,and he says, "It's okay."

"I'm s-sorry."

"I know, I know."

Why did I end it like this? Bro I have no idea I just kinda got bored with the story. I didn't feel like romanticizing a crisis.
Also, I take suggestions! Please leave some!

705 words