Juvenile Delinquents

Creeping in the dark

Sighing, I closed my old laptop that my parents bought me. I hadn't known why I chose to rewatch that video. It always brought back both good and bad memories. My relationship with Valentino was anything but normal. I thought going on my old laptop would help me, but it didn't. It only made it worse. I was in my dark hospital room, pitch black outside and roughly one in the morning. I couldn't sleep.

     After Jackson made his gran appearance, I hadn't been able to sleep properly. The thought of him at my side again sent me to panic. It had been four nights since the incident and I was getting worse. I hadn't been able to sleep in the past three days. Whenever my eyes would close, I pictured Jackson and Valentino, side by side with a wicked smirk painted on both their faces. They would watch me sleep. It was a reoccurring dream, one I had trouble getting rid of.

     My fears slowly became a reality when I began to picture Valentino beside me. Him and the boys still alive as they faked their deaths and watched me in my sleep. They prepared to kill me. It frightened me. My thoughts got the better of me within those days, especially the nights. My mind would drag me to unwanted areas of my brain. Places I hid specific information, ones to never retreat. But my mind charged towards them. The image of Greta snooping through William's belongings, when Valentino saw something psychotic in me and caused an enormous amount of fear and pain. The nights would always lead to me holding a gun. Tears filled my hands as my hand would tremble, then, my body would jerk from my imagination and focus on the nigh sky outside my window.

      That was what I was doing that night. Although, I had beat my thoughts. The moment the sun fell, my eyes directed towards the window. I began to feel confident, that I had overpowered my own mind but that was when my hands began to shake. Tremble. I lost my breath. My eyes instinctively shot down to my hands, and there, laid the silver slick gun. Tears formed in my eyes. I was reliving it. I tried to break free, even turned back towards the window but nothing worked. My mind pulled me back, made me relive the horrors of that day.

     As my eyes trained around the room, I was no longer in my hospital bed but in the familiar dark alleyway. The first place Valentino brought me. It was after our schools football game, and as I looked down my eyes widened in shock. Our school colours. Yellow shortsleeved top with a navy blue skirt with black tights underneath and tucked into my matted black Doc Martins.

     "Come on, Melly." Valentino whispered in my ear. The gun was in my hands and I couldn't pull my eyes from it. "Shoot him and prove to me that I'm right." I tore my eyes away from the steal gun. They stared into the dark brown eyes of the man to my left. Valentino seemed darker. Scarier. More intimidating than ever before, and I couldn't shake away from it.

     "P-Prove what t-to y-you?" My lips moved on its own. Repeating that day and it's events. My words trembled as I  gulped down the vomit. Valentino smirked at me before snapping his fingers. William and Peter appeared from the dark corner in the alley. A man with rope tied around his wrists and duck tape on his mouth as William and Peter dumped him in front of me. William gripped the poor mans head hard, making his eyes connect with mine. They were a pretty green. Bright and poisonous. He had a scar on the right side of his face that ran from his eyebrow down to his jaw. He was a scary man but not that day. That day, he played the victim and I was playing the bad guy.

     I felt Valentino's warm hand on my shoulder. "Shoot him." He squeezed my shoulder.

     My head shook. "W-What?"

     Valentino smirked as he placed his hand in mine and raised the gun. He pointed it towards the man on the ground. "This bastard owes us drug money, but didn't pay us back. We gave him a three months extension and he still didn't give us the money. Now—" He cocked the gun and pulled his hand away from mine. He left my arm raised. "—we have to shoot him."