Light was starting to show through the windows of the basement. Taylor hadn't moved an inch since the events of the early morning. They weren't even shedding tears anymore, just shaking. I pitied them, though I was more than upset too. I could tell how absolutely broken they felt. I didn't know how to help, or if I could for that matter.
I tapped on Taylor's shoulder gently, feeling them flinch. "Taylor," I said softly. "We have to go."
Taylor mumbled something under their breath, "I.." They spoke up finally, "I can't."
"We have to," I took a deep breath, "You've been sitting there all night and the police told us to leave."
"I can't leave her," They whimpered.
"She's gone."
They looked into my eyes, the saddest look I've ever seen on their face.
"We can stay a few more minutes."
It'd been a few weeks since the murder of Kaitlyn White. Taylor and I stayed in touch, making arrangements for her funeral. Taylor broke from their quiet and irritable state and was now just depressed. I knew it wasn't my fault but I couldn't help but feel guilty.
I stepped out of our bedroom, greeting Evan, who'd proposed rather recently, in the kitchen. "Hey," I smiled at him dully.
"Hi," He looked up from the pan of pancakes he was cooking. "How'd you sleep?" He knew things have been tough since Kaitlyn's death. But then again, who wouldn't know that by now?
"Eh," I sighed. "Woke up a few times, but other than that it was fine."
"Better than last week, I assume?"
"Definitely."
"So," He tossed the pancake in the air, it landing perfectly back onto the pan. "When's the funeral?"
"It was last week," I narrowed my eyes at him, calling Arrow over and scratching his head. He panted loudly.
"Right, right," Evan shook his head, "I'm sorry, I'm just thrown off."
"It's fine, just.."
"I know."
"Actually," I brushed off the previous conversation. "I haven't heard back from Taylor the past couple days."
"Maybe you should go to their house," Evan suggested.
"Yeah," I grabbed my keys. "I'm going to go now, get it over with."
"Okay, I'll be here all day."
"Bye, love you."
"I love you too!" He called out to me as I ran out the door, crawling into the car. I shoved the keys into the ignition, turning them and pulling out into the road. As I drove, I thought about how insane the events of the past month had been. I saw Taylor's dark blue house in the distance, and I sped up.
I pulled into their driveway, taking the keys out of the ignition after putting the car in park. I stepped out, looking up at the tall building before me. I took a deep breath, approaching the front door. I knocked on the door hard. No response. I knocked again. No response. I ambled over to the window, peering in. I saw a trail of blood leading into the kitchen. My mind raced, terrified out of my mind. I glanced around anxiously, trying to imagine what I was possibly supposed to do in this situation.
I grabbed a rock from the ground next to the door, holding it tightly in my dominant hand and throwing it towards the glass of the window. I watched as the rock smashed through the glass, making a rock-sized hole in it. I kicked the rest of the glass free with my shoe, trying my best not to get any on myself. I climbed through the window carefully, looking around as I sprinted into the kitchen. I saw Taylor, lifeless and lying there. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands.
"Oh my god.." I stared at Taylor for a moment, taking it all in.
Cameron and I walked towards the gym, chattering away about some nonsense we wouldn't remember the next day. I opened the locker room door and held it open for Cameron. The smell of sweat and intimidation hit me like an ocean wave as I stepped inside. I scrunched up my nose at the repugnant odor, glancing towards my friend and seeing he had the same expression as me.
We rolled our eyes, walking towards our designated lockers. We saw that some of our peers who were higher on the social hierarchy were blocking our way. I exchanged a glance with Cameron. I stepped up to face them, clearing my throat.
"Excuse me?" I called, voice echoing in the mostly empty room. The group of boys looked at me momentarily, turning back to their friends and continuing their conversation. I cleared my throat again. No response.
I turned to face Cameron, giving him a shrug. "No dice," I sighed. I watched as he placed his stuff on a nearby bench, probably to be shoved off by someone later. I did the same.
I suddenly realized we didn't deserve to be treated like that, and it looked as if Cameron did the same, because he marched right on up to those kids and stared them down. They turned to him.
"Need something?" One boy piped up. He was taller than Cameron and he had blond hair.
"Could you please move out of the way? Our lockers are right next to you," Cameron seemed timid, attitude being rained on by the intimidating group. A few snickered, and I couldn't tell why, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable request. They ignored him, doing what they did to me and returning to their chatting.
"Hey!" Cameron squealed, voice cracking at the end. Puberty was not doing him justice. "Don't act like I'm not here. I just asked you to move so I can get to class! Quit being a jerk!"
Two of the boys, one being the blond, looked at each other. Their expressions said something their words didn't. I started towards Cameron, about to say we should just go and to leave them alone, but the two grabbed him before I could reach them. They pinned him to the wall, mean boys doing what mean boys do and punching him in the face. I winced as I watched, afraid to intervene. I was frozen in my spot, heart racing. I didn't think things like this actually happened in real life. I'd only seen things like this in those old coming-of-age movies.
"Yo, you don't talk to us like that," I heard the blond one say. The remainder of their group were telling the boys to stop, and that they were going to get in trouble, but they kept on going.
I thought hard, until finally deciding to do what I do best. I ran. I ran out of the locker room and to the gymnasium and the teacher I trusted. Mrs. Davis. I sputtered out an explanation to why I was wheezing and on the verge of tears.
"They-I-" My eyes darted around, unable to focus at all. "He's-" Mrs. Davis looked at me sympathetically. "Come with me," I barely choked out, power walking back towards the locker room.
As we walked in, that same scent filled my nose. I saw that Cameron was leaning against a row of lockers, nose bleeding with his eyes shut. He wasn't unconscious, just standing there.
Mrs. Davis didn't say anything, she just stared at the mess before us, gawking. She didn't move until Cameron opened his eyes.
"Oh, hey," He said hoarsely. Was he really making jokes when he just got the crap beaten out of him?
"Honey, are you alright?" Mrs Davis finally spoke up, stepping closer to him hesitantly. She held her hand out, seemingly unsure whether or not to touch him. I didn't think teachers could touch students, but today was full of surprises either way.
"Yeah, I'm fine, why? I'm just having a nice conversation with God," He said, pointing to the corner of the room. I wasn't completely sure whether her was joking or not. "I'm kinda tired, though."
"I'm going to go get the nurse, stay with him." She tapped my shoulder, making sure I knew I was talking to me.
Mrs. Davis left the room, leaving the two of us alone. I observed Cameron as he slid down the wall, seating himself on the floor. I sat down next to him.
"Bro, that was straight up not fun," He groaned, leaning his head on my shoulder.
"Understandable," I laughed, looking to the side to see him. He looked pretty happy for someone who just lost a one-sided fight.
"Bro.. Bro.. Brohemian Rhapsody," He mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair as he thought. "We're having a broment."
"Yeah, we are, that's pretty good," I continued to laugh at his absent-minded jokes.
"I know," He stared into the void.
oh i just know people are gonna start shipping taylor and lucas because me the fuck too
