TWO YEARS AGO.
Simone thought I'd gone insane in the head. Sometimes I felt like I had.
"Clarke's three years older than you. Don't be stupid. He's in College, you're a junior in high school," she sighed heavily. "Be reasonable."
She kind of flipped when I told her about my new relationship with Lakeview's high former golden boy, Clarke Sherri. I thought she was just being jealous I got a boyfriend and she didn't.
"Age doesn't matter when two people are in love." Was my only valid excuse. She looked like she was tired of hearing that. "You should try it sometime, falling in love."
"I can't even fall asleep. Look..." she was interrupted by some group of students in the cafeteria who repeatedly banged on their table to the tune of a song while singing. "HEY! No singing in the cafeteria. This isn't high school musical or some shit."
They all stopped at once. Almost everyone felt intimidated by her height. I also was at first.
"Clarke's an asshole." She turned back to me.
"He's sweet when you get to know him." This wasn't me defending him. He really was.
Simone quietly stared at me long and hard, giving another deep sigh. "I hope you know what you're doing." Then she stood up and exited the cafeteria, leaving her untouched lunch behind.
Extra food for me.
Hours later, the school's bell rang through the halls signaling the end of school. I pushed myself through the crowd rushing out the building in search for Mabel when I spotted her coming out from another building, Middle school.
I stepped in beside her but she didn't notice because her face was glued to her phone screen. "Who are you texting?" I looked over her shoulders as I watched her type in a number. She was pretty tall for her age. Only thirteen years old, and she already almost towered over me. Almost.
"I'm about to call someone, how do I look?" She adjusted her hair and shirt.
"They're not going to see you through the phone..."
"Shhhhhhh," she dialed the number, waited for it to ring. "Hi!... This is Mabel, from Biology class..." Probably some new boy in her class. I rolled my eyes. "How I got your number?... uh..." she looked at me to tell her what to say and I just shrugged. "... from the bible! In the book of Numbers."
"Oh jeez," I mumbled as the bus pulled in front of the school.
______
"We're here, we're home, and we're starving," I announced as we entered through the front door. "Feed us, woman."
Mom's Lasagna filled the air and tickled our noses.
"In the kitchen!" Mom yelled. "The new neighbors brought roast chicken this afternoon. It's just one piece left."
Mabel and I exchanged knowing looks. "DIBS!"
We bolted for the kitchen at the same time, aiming for the plate of the said roast chicken. I got my hands on it first.
"Not fair!" Mabel sulked.
"I came to this world before you. It's only natural I'm smarter."
"Use that smartness to solve your math homework next time," she sticked out her tongue at me, knowing fully well she helps with my math homework.
My kid sister solved my math problems. I was dumb, I know.
"No fighting in the kitchen," mom scolded. "Your dad's almost home for dinner. Help set up the table."
We proceeded to lay out the dishes on the table as dad sauntered in the front door, fatigue and stress written all over his face. "Ah, you're just in time." Mom said, and I couldn't help but notice the forced smile on her face.
Dad just nodded and took a seat beside Mabel and I who were watching curiously at how weird everything appeared to be. No 'welcome back home' kiss, no 'how was school' questions, he wasn't asking how my drama class went which I was dying to tell him by the way.
As we ate, silence filled the room. It's not one of those comfortable silence that we usually experience. Something's off, I didn't know if it was the way my parents kept avoiding eye contact, or the way mom smiled anytime she caught me staring at her as if to assure me everything was fine.
Even when I knew deep down in my thoughts it was not.
"Ok, cut it out you both." I slammed my fork on the table.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Mom still has her deceiving smile on.
"You know what. Why does dad look like he's been run over by a truck? And why do you have that smile on your face that appears anytime dad says a joke and it's not funny?"
Her smile wavered, and she briefly made eye contact with dad before turning back to Mabel and I.
"I hope you know your father and I love you both very much..."
"Just go straight to the point."
"We're getting a divorce."
It felt like I'd been stabbed, straight through the heart.
"A what?"
"I think she meant that stuff where a marriage is being dissolved by a court..."
"I know what a divorce is," I shot Mabel a killer look.
"It's just no longer working out. This was the best we could think of," dad said for the first time since dinner started.
"So you're just going to throw away twenty years of marriage?! What happened to 'till death do us part'? What happened to 'for better, for worse'?"
"Looks like it's going down the drain," Mabel murmured under her breath.
"Things no longer went as we planned," Mom spoke.
"Fine. Cool. Blow this all up because of a lover's quarrel."
Anger flared in my dad's eyes. "If you think this is just a lover's quarrel... where are you going?"
I stood up to exit the room, grabbing dad's car keys and stomping out the house in a fit of rage. I didn't know what to feel. I was hurt, sad, and angry at the same time.
I left with just my phone and car keys, and I couldn't go back there to get some cash after my dramatic exit. I'd look ridiculous.
I clenched my jaw tightly. I was furious, so furious to the point where my eyes saw red.
My phone rang and I picked it up immediately I saw the caller. "Clarke..." I sobbed into the phone. "I-I need you. My whole life's a mess, and... where are you?"
"Partayyyy!" His familiar voice slurred over the phone. "Youuu should be hereee! Everyone isss hereee and—" hiccups. "Havinggg soo much fuuuun! Jenny Adams is stripping on a poleeeee—" hiccups. "And herrr ass is so damn fineeeee."
"Where are you?" I asked patiently.
"I dunno. It's some dude from college who's hosting a party at his parent's houseee."
He told me earlier that day he was attending a party eight streets away from mine, and would come visit once it's ended. But he sounded so wasted that I doubted he'd be able to drive down to my place.
I hung up the call and started the car. Part of me felt bad that I left Mabel to deal with my parents. I considered driving back for her, but it might be dangerous for her to come to that kind of party.
I drove through the darkness, trying not to change my mind and go back home. But he sounded so drunk, I needed to be there for him. I loved him, but I hated this drinking habit he'd developed. In the past months, he had been partying and drinking harder, and I feared something bad would happen because of it.
The blaring sound of the music could be heard yards away, and I knew I was at the right place. I spotted Clarke sitting on the front porch of the house, bobbing his head up and down to the song with a bottle of vodka in his hands.
He staggered to his feet when he saw me and had this huge smile on his face. "Allisonnnn. You caaaaame!"
"Yeah, I needed to talk to you. It's my parents..."
His eyes glazed drunkenly. "Let's go somewhere private."
"No one's out here." I pointed out. "I just..." I felt his cold lips pressed hard to mine before I could finish. "I'm serious, Clarke. I'm not in the mood."
I tried to push him away but he held me so tight against him as I struggled to pull myself free. "Get off me!" I only needed someone to talk to and I thought he would be less of a dick about it. "Simone's right, you're an asshole. Text me first thing tomorrow morning."
Already pissed off, I turned to leave when I felt him grope me. He forcefully pressed his lips on mine again, biting it hard this time that I tasted blood. Tears stung at the back of my eyes.
"Let her go, you son of a bitch."
Clarke stopped abruptly, and turned to the owner of the voice who stood just feet away from us. It was dark outside, I couldn't make out his face but he appeared to be around my age, maybe a year older.
"What... did you just call me?" Clarke moved closer to him and held the boy's face in his grip, turning it left and right as if to check who he was. "You're his brotherrr," He slurred. "I never liked your brother, I don't even know why I'm at his party."
Clarke laughed like he just told a joke of the century.
"Then you should leave." The other boy stated firmly, and all hint of playfulness drained from Clarke's features.
"Didn't your psycho mom teach you manners?"
That must've hit a nerve, because I saw the boy raise a hand and slapped it hard across Clarke's face. As at that moment, I began to fear for his safety.
Clarke turned away from him and I almost thought he wasn't going to react to the slap until he swiftly twirled around and connected the bottle of vodka in his hands, straight to the boy's head.
Pieces broke, I saw blood everywhere. I couldn't hear my own thoughts over the sound of my scream.
The boy had already slumped to the floor as I stared at Clarke in horror. "What are you doing?!"
"Teaching him a lesson." My brain began to ring alarms when he brought out a gun from inside his jeans and pointed it at the boy on the floor who already looked unconscious. "Why don't I leave a little present for your brother? He'd be thrilled to find out I put a bullet through your head."
I knew I had to do something, or that gun was going to go off any minute. And if it did, it's end of story for the boy on the floor.
"Clarke..." I slowly shifted closer to him, my whole voice and body trembling. "This isn't you. You're going to hate yourself by morning if you do this." I moved another inch closer, trying to have his attention. "If you love me like you claim, you wouldn't do this, for my sake."
"I do love you."
"Then you'll do what I say." I took a final step and cupped his face with my trembling hands, stared at him straight in the eye. "Give me the gun, Clarke."
He groaned in defeat and placed the gun on my hands as I let out a deep sigh of relief. So far, so good. All I needed to do was call an ambulance...
"Still doesn't stop me from teaching him a lesson, though," I heard Clarke say. He proceeded forward to press a foot to the boy's neck and a headache sliced through my brain.
The boy was already injured enough. Anymore damage, and he would die from loss of blood.
But with the look of things, he'd die faster rather than loss of blood but lack of air passage to his throat because Clarke stepped on his neck so hard, I thought it might snap.
He gripped Clarke's leg and struggled for air, Clarke himself didn't look like he was about to leave him soon.
Then I had this not so brilliant idea to scare him off with the sound of a bullet. I didn't know where the thought came from, but I had to do something.
So as I squeezed my eyes shut, I raised the gun and pulled the trigger. I wasn't sure where I aimed at, but the next thing I heard was the sound of something hitting the floor with a loud thud.
I peeled my eyes open, confused at the sight before me. It was no longer one body on the floor, but two.
Where's Clarke?
I walked closer to the crime scene, and my lungs stopped functioning when I recognized the second body on the floor to be Clarke's, his eyes opened but drained of all life.
I forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to process it all in my head as my breathing began coming out in short gasps.
Fat tears spilled from my eyes. I slumped to the floor, gathered his body in my arms and rocked him to sleep.
Sleep.
That was what I liked to think of it as. He wasn't dead, just in a deep slumber. It was easier for me to put it that way.
Even still, I wept, my vision became so blurry that I didn't see someone rushing out of the house to where I was with the two bodies.
I saw him panic, phoned an ambulance and cradled the other boy in his arms too, like I did.
I guess that was the brother Clarke talked about, because I saw tears escape his eyes too.
He stared at me with bloodshot eyes, then at Clarke's body, putting two and two together. "What did you do?!"
"Help me," I sobbed, feeling hopeless, distressed, grief. "Please. Help me."
Police sirens could be heard from a distance. Someone probably heard the gunshots and called the cops. It was my turn to panic. And I panicked real bad.
"Please! We have to do something. I-I can't get into trouble!"
He just shook his head, like he wasn't believing any of this was happening. Neither did I.
The police sirens drew closer, and I wept like my life depended on it. "Would you quit crying!" He was panicking too. For me. "Give me the gun."
I did as he said, watched him rub his hands all over the gun like he was trying to get his fingerprints on it instead of mine. He took out a clean cloth from his pocket, wiped the stains of blood from my hands.
"You're going to go home and forget any of this happened," he said.
"W-What about you?" He gave me a look that spoke louder than words. "No! You can't!"
"I'd have done the same for my brother. Go!"
The urgency in his voice sent me on my feet. I stood up and stared at him with uncontrollable tears pouring out my eyes. The police already pulled up in the street. I could see their torchlights looming ahead, and coming in our direction.
"What are you waiting for? Go!"
So I ran.
Gasping and sobbing all the way to my dad's car. I felt like I was drained out of energy. My arms felt weak by my sides, and the only thing I could do was cry. I didn't know it was possible to have this much tears.
From the driver's seat where I sat, I saw the ambulance carry the boy on a stretcher, then covered Clarke's body with a cloth. People inside the party already gathered outside to watch the whole thing.
Next thing I saw was the police questioning the boy's brother. They talked for a while and collected the gun from his hand, putting it into a transparent paper bag. He was cuffed, shoved into a police car.
I lost two important people in my life that day. My dad, and Clarke. I shouldn't have left the house, and I knew I was going to regret it for the rest of my life.