Noxious

20 | my mind

Rowan

My mind was on a tightrope. 

We evaded the police, and Tommy offered to let us stay at his place. I wanted to know why he was helping us, I was suspicious, but he never gave me an answer. All I could really do was go along for the free ride from prison. 

When we reached Tommy's place, Charly and Kyle tore into each other. Their typical arguing went on like an echo within my head. I wasn't really hearing them. I kept drifting in and out of present and past, with only one face permanently etched behind my closed eyelids. 

"Enough!"

 Tommy's voice snapped me back to reality. Charly fell back into her seat and Kyle was shoved back into his own. Tommy then said, "If what you stole is why they're here, you won't walk away alive."

That was just great. I couldn't handle anymore death. 

You think you can, until you see it happen. 

"It's just cash," Kyle grumbled. Was it? I asked silently, I was beginning to think it was something more. I wouldn't be surprised if it was drugs of high value or something else entirely. 

Some part of me wanted Charly to get the backpack away from him, so I could steal it from her and unveil the mystery contents. 

"You stole money?" Charly shouted at Kyle, "From a gang? Are you insane?"

"Jesus," I pressed my palms into my eyes, "We're dead." Even though those words felt like bitter poison dripping from my tongue, I knew it to be true. I never got involved with gangs for the very reason I knew they were violent when you pissed them off. 

Kyle was just as stupid as he had been when we were kids. Impulsive, and thinking he can avoid the consequences. Sometimes, he never realizes how much he fucks up everyone else's lives in the process. 

Does he even know what he did to me? 

I doubted it.

"I'm leaving," Charly stated.

"No, you're not," Tommy countered, "They are probably waiting for someone to get out."

"They're going to kill us anyway, so it doesn't matter! I'll make it easy for them," She hollered. 

Her words were triggered. For a split second, all I could hear was Milo's voice. I could see him sitting on the edge of the roof that day, a cigarette in his hand, as he knew he was dying. I could hear his careless words as clear as day. 

I wouldn't let it happen again. 

I jerked forward and seized Charly's wrist as she tried to get out of the car, and I forcefully pulled her back into her seat. When she turned to me, I couldn't hide the anger, "Don't fucking say that."

"Say what?" She asked, irritated.

"That your life doesn't matter," I said, lowly, "It does."

"Christ sake," She ripped her wrist from my grip, "I don't need a fucking sentimental lecture. You don't care about me, I don't care about you, we're even. Goodbye."

"Don't let her leave," Tommy urgently restated. I had no intention to, how horrifying would it be to watch someone get shot? Would she slowly bleed out? 

God, my mind had lost it. 

"No, no, by all means, let her get out," Kyle said, amused, "If she gets shot, at least we know they're hostile. It wouldn't be much of a loss."