Illegal My Ass

Chapter 41- 'We stole a parrot & tried to teach it how to sing Bump N Grind'

 A/N: I warn you guys now, this chapter is less laughs and more depression. i mean it depressed the shit out of me when i was writing it but it needed to be done. i couldnt keep you guys waiting and there is no way i can make this chapter humourous. Hope you still like it though :D

Thank you to Mona-Mae for the awesome banner i love it!

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I didn’t open up a can of worms.

What I had opened was a bag full of shit that I could never close again.

I don’t know how long it took for me to speak once Drake told me. It might have been a minute; it might have been ten because all I could think to myself was that I must have heard him wrong. There was no way it could be true, that Drake was the reason why that guy was paralyzed. The reason why he couldn’t even wipe his own mouth.

“Please say something.” Drake almost begged, a pained look on his face as he looked at me clearly shocked into silence. I don’t think that has ever happened.

My mouth opened to speak but no sound came out at first. What the hell do you say to that?

“What did you do?” I asked in horror as my eyes automatically went back to the guy in the wheelchair. Suddenly it was a lot harder to look at him. I shook my head “You did that? You made him like that?”

He pressed his lips together, looking ashamed as he nodded his head.

I stared at him, shock still running through my body. I found myself looking at him harder than I ever have, memories I had with him flashing through my head as I studied him. I knew he had problems and I knew he was violent, but I never thought the Drake I knew, the Drake I practically lived with would be capable of something like this.

“And there it is…” Drake announces, his voice a mixture of smugness and hurt “…that look. I told you you’d look at me differently.”

I swallowed hard, not being able to disagree with him just yet. Suddenly I mentally shook my head, realising I wasn’t going to let him be right. I wasn’t going to judge him or look at him any differently. I was going to stay calm and remember that this is Drake, the Drake I’ve known since I was four years old. I wasn’t going to look at him differently; he wasn’t going to be right on this.

I found myself using his own advice and thinking about the night we watched that zombie film when we were younger, remembering that’s Drake. The boy who peed himself over a zombie jumping out of a wardrobe. Not the boy who puts people in wheelchairs.

“Explain.” I found myself saying, realising I needed to know more. I was going to let him explain, and I prayed to god it would be enough to keep my opinion of him the same.

His eyes never left me, and I noticed he had not looked through the window at the guy apart from when he pointed him out to me. I don’t think he could.

“You don’t want to bolt for the door yet?” he asked, his voice almost deflated as he is so sure that I was going to turn my back on him.

Like everyone has done…

I shook my head “You said you were going to tell me everything. I’m waiting for that.”

He bore his eyes into mine, I think trying to see if I meant it. Probably trying to predict how close I was to actually bolting for the door.

I was determined I was not going to look at him differently. I had asked to hear it and I could handle it. I was still thinking of that night, remembering the 8 year old boy who didn’t scare me.