Grease (Camila/You)

.19

not proofread

6:38 pm, Tuesday
Downtown
Venice, California 1959
"Y-you killed him."

It was like Camila's heart stopped. She watched with wide eyes as blood pooled around Jacky's limp body. His eyes bore into hers, the only ounce of life fading away as he held her gaze. She felt empty, but it only lasted a few moments.

"Holy shit," Jesse gasped, looking down at the gun in his hand. He let it clatter to the floor, running his blood splattered hands through the ruffled hair on his head. Blood smeared on his forehead, he looked over at Camila, who's tears were streaming down her face without her knowing. "I just meant to scare him, honest! I didn't mean to actually shoot him—I swear it!"

Camila sniffed, wiping at her nose as sobs shook her body, yet she felt nothing. She looked around, the street noises slowly replacing the ringing in her ears. She slowly stepped forward, praying that Jacky wouldn't jump up any second and grab her, but also praying he would, so this could all be a joke.

Her breath was caught in her throat. She leaned down, reaching out with easiness as Jesse watched her, a few paces behind. She pressed her fingers onto Jacky's pulse point, feeling around for the comforting beating, but finding none.

And it was then, when she truly felt it.

She fell back, supporting herself with her legs which quivered beneath her. Jesse stumbled, the weight of what had happened hitting him like a brick. His eyes were wild, blinking rapidly, his jaw clenching. He leaned over, heaving hot bile onto the cracked stone floor.

Camila tried to gather her thoughts but they were racing through her head at speeds she didn't know existed. She hardly could hold onto one thought. When she finally got ahold of herself, she stood up and wiped her tears away, ignoring the fact that they wouldn't stop falling.

"Jesse, you shot him."

"I know."

"He's dead, Jesse, he's not coming back."

"I know, Camila," Jesse said through gritted teeth, his hands on his knees, spit dripping from his mouth.

"No, Jesse, you killed a man! You fucking killed him! He's gone."

"I KNOW, CAMILA! S-stop talking—SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He exploded, his body convulsing with anger. Camila closed her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. Her arms wrapped around her torso while she tried to labor her breathing.

Jesse started pacing, the blood on his hands had stained the white shirt under his t-bird jacket. His hand had glued itself to his hair from him running it through it so much.

"What are we gonna do?" Jesse rambled, mumbling to himself like a crazy man. "There's nothing to do, nobody can know. We'll have to take the body somewhere and drop it. I have a rug in my trunk that we can roll him in—"

"We have to tell someone," Camila said quietly, looking down at her hands that had a few drops of Jacky's dried blood on them. She turned, making Jesse stop talking to himself and watch her.

"H-hey, where are you going?" Jesse asked impatiently. "You can't leave, you're a part of this too!"

"We can't just leave him here! We have to go tell the police, or someone that can help us—"

Jesse rushed at her, taking her off guard as he slammed her against the wall and pinned her there. She gasped and struggled against him, evading his wild eyes that stared into her angrily as she tried to catch the wind that was knocked from her.