Lams One-shots

I Couldn't Seem to Die

I think this is an appropriate title reference thingy. Hope you enjoy! (Also this was inspired by a tiktoker's story, if I find it, I'll link it

TW: Death, cursing

(Alexander's POV)

I was walking home from work, which happens to have a shortcut through a dark alley. I was aware there were some risks going through the alley, but those aren't really going to affect me, and John worries when I don't get home on time.

Suddenly someone pushed me up against the brick wall beside me, I was to far down the alley for anyone to see.

"Give me your wallet and you won't be hurt."

"Sir, please back off, you don't want to shoot me." I tried to say this calmly, but my voice was shaking, and my breathing sped up.

This stranger laughed, "And why is that, because I'll hurt someone?"

"I'm not worried about that, sir, I promise you don't want to try to shoot me, you will regret it."

"I'm tired of this bullshit." He fired his gun right into my chest.

"No-" It was as if he fired his gun at his own chest, but the bullet wasn't there. He fell to the ground holding his chest, blood gushing out of the bullet wound.

"How-"

"I warned you." I proceeded to call 911, telling them I had just witnessed a suicide, and I made sure to note that I couldn't stay because I was "too scared" when in reality the blood on my shirt made it look like I did it and i couldn't stand being in jail for something that was done to me.

I have been like this my whole life, if a kid punched me, I wouldn't feel it, he would. I've been labeled as a freak, and I'm pretty sure every gang in the city is after me because I "keep defeating" every member that comes after me. I only judge that because more often than not I'm getting robbed, or some guy would try to stab me as I'm walking home from work. Every time, they would die, not me.

I continued walking home from work, trying to ignore the stares from the blood spatter on my shirt. They don't understand.

As I walked in I went straight to my room, not even saying "Hi" to John and Phillip, who were playing with legos on the carpet in the living room. John didn't even notice. Thank God.

No, I haven't told him, or Phillip of my strange ability, nor do I plan on it. I'll just change my shirt and he'll never know. I just wish people would stop attacking me.

After getting changed I knew I couldn't go down to talk to him, he'd get suspicious, so I just started writing. I don't even remember what I was writing about, I just wrote.

After a half- hour of writing, I heard my phone ding. I checked it and saw a message from John.

"Hey, when are you getting home? You ok?"

I immediately wrote back, knowing this is the one chance I get to tell him I'm home.

"I'm actually home, I forgot to say hi and went to my office to write, sorry for worrying you."

I felt bad for making John worry, but I knew he'd be more worried if I came in with blood on my clothes, and the sad look I had on my face. I still feel heavy from the guy, he tried to kill me and I still feel sorry for him.

My phone rang with another text. "Well Phillip wants to play with you, come downstairs"

I didn't want to talk to anybody, still feeling heavy, but I picked myself up, and headed down the stairs to play whatever Phillip wanted to play, probably legos.