Demon //m.c//

Chapter 19

As his body faded to nothing, the realisation of what I'd done hit me ;

I'd killed someone.

I killed Michael Clifford. The murderer. The demon.

I dropped the knife, which clattered on the floor. I looked down at the spot he laid on.

Nothing was there. All he'd left was guilt and sour memories.

I'm just as bad.

He took Amelia.

I took him.

I'm just as bad. But, Michael was born a demon. I wasn't.

So in someways, I'm worse.

I walked to pick up the butter knife, but couldn't bring my self to touch it. Knowing that someone lost there life because of it, I don't think I would ever touch it again.

I kicked it under the bed.

I typed out a group text.

"Meet me at the abandoned park. 10 minuets. Important.".

Kat sat on the slide, Ellie on the left hand swing. The right hand one was still broken.

"Guys.." My voice came out as a terrified whisper. I signalled them over.

"Hey Poppy..." Kat said sympathetically. Amelia flashed into my mind.

"Michaels dead." I blurted out.

"What?" Ellie raised her voice, which she never does.

"But guys... It was me. I killed him...".

No words.

"I'm going home, I feel sick..".

I stood up, and headed home.

But I didn't have a stomach ache.

The sickness was in my head. In my heart.

I felt like I was still being watched by those bold red eyes.