Divided

:Chapter Twenty-Five:

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•AUTHORS NOTE•
Can I get a Yee Haw! The first book is officially fully published! (Though not fully edited) let me know if your interested in the second book in the trilogy in the comments or through dm! •Thank you all, Grace•
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Bruce steps into the bus swiftly, not fazed by the silence. He pulls the cuffs of his shirt out and stands in front of the bus with a straight face. "We're going to be a little late, as we had this unscheduled stop. Please keep quiet and don't ask any questions, it's for your own good." He says looking at me when he finishes.

I'm still in shock as he sits down and starts the bus. My hands shake and sweat and I wipe them on my jeans as the thoughts flow through my brain like a river on steroids. Can a river go on steroids? Oh well. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Matthew's dead. He's gone, and I can't shake the feeling that it's my fault. I clutch my sides and rock slightly in my seat, sobbing lightly.  The last thing I said to him was 'I don't care about you'. The last thing I did was break up with him. He's not even going to get a funeral, here one second, gone the other. I shake my hair out of my face and cradle my head in my hands. Someone comes to sit next to me quietly and I don't even look up.

"What's wrong there sweetheart? Did daddy die? Poor Libby baby-" Derrick starts but stops pretty flipping abruptly when my fist connects with his throat. A surge of energy runs through my veins like a drug and I smile. I smile. "What the hell Lib! You're going to pay for that." He spits at me, but I've already thrown off my jacket and pushed him to the floor. I trap his arms under my thighs and smirk evilly at his terrified expression. I punch him repeatedly in the face until he starts to spew blood, then bend down laughing quietly in his ear.

"You unwanted piece of Satan's shit. You will burn first here, then in hell with the rest of your kind. You, I must say, are the sickest garbage I have ever laid eyes on. You should know, when I get the chance, I will make your death painful and long. First, I will cut along the bottom of your wrists and twist your hands until they break from your pathetic, cowardly body. Then, I will patch then up carelessly. Don't want you bleeding out before the real fun begins right? I'll slowly cut off your eyelids and fill your creepy little eyes with salt, and I'll laugh as you try to cry whilst your eyes dry up, shriveling into your skull like a crab when poked with a stick. I'll then light your hair on fire and smile at you as it burns up to your empty skull, though you can't see me." I whisper in his ear with a slight laugh.

"I'll make your pain last weeks as you have made mine, until I finally kill you, sliding my blade gently across the front of your throat. Just deep enough to draw blood, then throw you into a lake of lemon juice with your hands and legs tied, watching as your screams are muffled by the slow, agonizing filling of your wounds and lungs." I finish, letting my lips drag across his earlobe and he shudders.

"Lib what the hell?" Nick says pulling me off a very startled Derrick. I glare at him and brush the imaginary dust from my jeans.

"And you call me sick, shit you need help..." Derrick mumbles as he stands, wiping the blood from his mouth and spitting on the floor beside him. But more than horror his eyes are filled with pride. He's actually impressed. Freaking impressed. What the hell? "Hope you fix your daddy issues." He grins and walks back to his seat. I tried to launch myself at him again, but Nick held me back. I expect him to chew me out for attacking Derrick, but instead he pulls me into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry Lib..." He says softly into my hair and I relax, leaning into him. My crying has started again and I don't try to stop this time. This time, I have a new plan. Get it all out now, Lib, because you aren't going to cry again.