Flame ➸ John Murphy

31

West had ignored the fact that she had fallen asleep on John for two nights. She went about her day as if she didn't have her breakdown. Being vulnerable in front of John was uncomfortable and she didn't like it.

A couple more weeks had passed and the food had run out. For the weeks before, West had given most of her food to John. She would only eat a few times in front of him to keep the boy from being suspicious. If they were going to die, she wanted to be the first one gone. West didn't want to have to watch John die. It was selfish, but she couldn't help herself.

West didn't know when the last time she had eaten was. All she knew was that her body was slowly getting weaker. Most days she sat in bed talking with John or reading. The boy had spent most of his time in the living room. His hair had grown on his head as well as his face giving him a short beard. West assumed John could tell she was getting weaker, but she didn't know if he knew it was because she had given him her food.

Sitting in the bed, West had woken up from a long nap. John hadn't been in the room all morning, so she decided to sleep. Becoming bored, West slowly moved out of the bed. She still felt tired, but she ignored the weight she felt in her eyes. Moving towards the living room she began to hear sound. Johns angry voice cut through the air.

"Anyway, Jaha if you're seeing this, that would indeed mean you're not dead so screw you!" John screamed.

West placed a hand on her chest as she tried not to breath, worried John would hear. She stayed hidden around the corner as she wondered who John was speaking to.

"West if you're seeing this I," The boy stopped as he hesitated. His mouth opened again before closing. "I'm sorry."

Pain was evident in Murphy's voice. Peaking her head around the corner West saw John sitting on the couch. On the coffee table sat a camera that she assumed he had been talking to. John's face was red and his cheeks were wet with tears. His brow furrowed together as he looked at the object in his hand. A gun.

West placed her hand over her mouth, stopping her gasp. She felt slight betrayl knowing that Murphy never told her he had found a gun.

John raised the gun, placing it under his chin. He took a deep breath as more tears fell from his eyes. West ran from around the corner as his finger was placed on the trigger.

"Don't do it John." West pleaded as she ran out in front of him.

His eyes looked up to hers in shock. Moving slowly, West kneeled down in front of him. Her eyes stayed locked with his as she grabbed the gun from his hold. Once it was gone, she threw it across the room. As the gun hit the ground John placed his head in his hand.

"John what were you thinking?" West lightly scolded. Her heart was still pounding out of her chest.

"I can't do it anymore." He cried. "We're both going to starve anyway."

West didn't know what to say to him. He was right. She had stopped him from taking his life in a way less painful then starvation. Her eyes fell to her hands.

"You weren't going to say goodbye." She whispered.

"God West! I didn't know how!" He groaned throwing his head back.

West straightened up on her knees so the two were nearly eyelevel. When John leaned forward again, West pulled him into a hug. Her arms went around his back as his head rested on her shoulder. John placed his arms around the girls waist as he cried angry tears into her shoulder. She could tell he was still trying to hold himself together.

Words couldn't form in West's mind. Nothing she could think of to say would make the situation any better.

"Do you remember when we played the drinking game and you asked me if I would have left you behind?" John asked, his forehead still resting on the girls shoulder.