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I sat in my room staring at the wall as I could hear everybody else celebrating and enjoying themselves. At this point I had stopped crying, I couldn't anymore but I could feel the emptiness. I heard my door open but I didn't bother to turn around.

"What happened?" It was recognized the deep voice and realized it was Marcus.

"Nothing."

"Look at me and tell me nothing's wrong. I'm your brother I understand when shit isn't alright, I'm not mom or dad." I hated showing feelings in front of anyone ever since I was told I shouldn't cry, I didn't like to show any signs of weakness.

"Austin's dead." I said still not turning around. Marcus came and sat next to me and put his arm around me.

"It's not your fault, nobody could've saved him."

"If it wasn't for me being there he wouldn't of had to shield me."

"They were after him anyways remember?"

"Yeah I know, but I still had some part in this. It's always me-"

"It wasn't your fault, Joey's a murderer, you should just turn that video into the police." When my brother said that I thought about it. It wasn't that simple, Joey could snitch me right out about everything he knew of about me, and everyone else associated with me. That's too big of a risk.

"It's not that easy Mar, there's a lot of things that could be at risk if I was to do that."

"Like what?" He didn't know about all the things I was involved with or if I even was. I remember explaining to him about a bag of money and drugs he happened to find in my room one time, but I said I was holding it for someone else. So I'm sure he's had his suspicions since then.

Before I could put my explaination in words, my dad walked in. Even though I didn't want to show I was sad, I guess it was that obvious. Plus I hadn't been home all Christmas break to even know my dad was coming home, so it was off gaurd.

"We can talk later." Marcus said walking out the room leaving just me and my dad.

"What's got you upset?" My dad said sitting in the spot where my brother sat. He had a curious look on his face.

"I'm sorry you seen me like that."

"Are you gonna answer my question?"

"My friend died today dad." I looked at him and shook my head and let out a slight laugh. "I know you guys claim showing no emotion is the best way to be but I don't understand how I'm supposed to do that. It wasn't a natural death that you can just, understand happened for a reason, just like Red."

"Do you know who killed him?"

"Yeah I do, his names Joey. And I'll make sure he suffers, I wanna see him gasp for air and bleed to death-" I paused there, cause I realized if I would've said anymore I would've had to explain what I meant and I don't know how to even go on about all the shit I've done, I mean I've killed people too but there was reasons behind it.

"I know what you mean, been in that situation plenty of times. But I don't like to see people I love sad, especially my daughter." My dad said taking a drink out his glass.

"I know you don't, neither do I. I guess I get it from you."

"You do, you get a lot of characteristics from me huh?" I looked at him in confusion, with my dad being who he was who know's what he meant. Was it a way of telling me that he knew about me?

"This Joey boy should watch his back, no one makes my daughter break." He said getting up from my bed walking to the door. Well, I could say I'm glad he didn't know about all the things Austin did.

"Dad, it's alright I don't want you or anyone to-"

"You know you can't tell me what I should do and shouldn't, Alex. And as I said, this Joey should consider watching his back, if he was smart enough he should be out of town right now. Everyone who's hurted the people I love while I've been gone, they know I'm back. Their life has been on the clock since I walked out."

He left my room and I sat there and thought about all he just said, and to be honest it feels as if he already knows about it all. I wouldn't be too surprised, but I didn't want him to go after Joey, I wanted to do that myself, and I still am. He doesn't deserve to breath, and I wanted to be one of the reasons he isn't.

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