Good At Being Bad (#1)

4.

                                                             ~4~

     AS SOON AS I ARRIVED HOME FROM THE GAS station, I immediately ran up to my room and stayed in there for the rest of the night. Of course my parents noticed something was wrong as soon as I came running in the door and quickly locking it. I was converged in sweat, my ponytail was no longer neat but messy, and I was on the verge of tears. If you stood close enough you would be able to see the water forming at the bottom of my eyes.

I was so shaken, I didn't even bother going to a different gas station. I barely made it home without driving off the side of the road or crashing into somebody else's car. My mind was clouded with visions of Jesse, the three other people that were with him, and the old man working at the gas station. That man looked so scared for his life. He was old, yes, but it wasn't his time to go just yet. I was quite sure that man by now was somewhere laying cold and alone or dead in the woods somewhere, and I was also sure that it was my fault for it happening. 

Out of all my eighteen years living, never have I ever just left somebody who needed help. When I was a child, my parents used to always tell me to help others who needed it because if I didn't it would seem selfish and rotten. And right at this moment I felt like both, selfish and rotten. Of course when I arrived home and they asked me what was wrong, I couldn't tell them what had happened or what was wrong because I didn't want them to feel ashamed of me.

"Sweetheart you know you can tell us anything right? We don't like seeing you upset or hurt and when you are upset and hurt we don't want you to hold it in. Please tell us what's wrong sweetie," my father says as he bends down in front of me. Almost instantly, an image of Jesse's tall frame bending down in front of me popped up in my head.

I closed my eyes tight and bit down on my tongue. I wanted to tell them so bad, but it's a different thing when it comes to stealing a cookie out of a cookie jar and leaving a man to be murdered by four guys. One with a very cocky attitude.

"Everything's alright dad, I just...I'm just tired that's all. After all the cheering I've today, I just want to lay down and rest my muscles and mind," I say as I wipe my eyes with my thumb. 

My mother looks hesitant, but before she can say anything my father cuts in and asks, "Are you sure, because if there's something wrong you can tell us what it is."

I nod my head and force a smile on my face to make my lie a little more believable. "Positive."

They both just stand there looking at me before I smile once again and move around them to head up the stairs. I run up the stairs and into my room before they can call me back down and question me some more. Once I'm in the safety of my room I lock my door and walk into the bathroom to see how bad I really looked.

Of course when I turned on the bathroom light and turned to look at my reflection in the mirror, I wasn't surprised to see that my hair was a mess and my face was a deep shade of red even though I hadn't cried. My eyes were glistening and wide and almost my whole body was shaking. Slowly I brought my hand up to the oversized bow holding my hair up in a high ponytail before unclipping it and letting my hair fall over my shoulders. The color of my hair resembled the color of my heart at the moment. Black and filled with fear and selfishness.

"You should feel ashamed," I whisper to myself.

After standing there for a few more minutes I turn the light off and exit the bathroom. I drag my feet across the floor over to my dresser before rummaging through it for something comfortable to sleep in for the night. I found a pair of cheetah print pajama pants and a matching top before quickly changing out of my cheer leading uniform and into the night clothes. I didn't bother putting the uniform in the dirty clothes bin, I just turned off the light and climbed underneath the blankets and just laid there. As I laid there on my back I could still hear the sound of the old man's cries and the four guys screaming at him. I could still hear Jesse's voice calling me "sweet cheeks" and the sound of my shoes pounding on the cement as I retreated back to my car after I made my decision to act like none of that ever happened.