Eighteen

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I was so ready to kill Liam today. Bumping my fists together, I said to myself, "he fucked up. Now it's time to die."

Liam will get a taste of my wrath, and he will not like it. I rubbed my hands together, and laughed evily. His grave was already digged in his back yard.

I packed everything I needed into my backpack — curved artery forceps, plane toothed thumb forceps, curette, metzenbaum scissors, a rope, duct tape, and a black beanie to cover his head.

That's right. I was ready to operate on a very specific someone, and today was going to be that day.

Bursting through the double doors of the school, I stomped straight to Liam's locker. I didn't care who was watching. All I saw was red, and possibly homicide too. Possibly, pfft, most definitely.

The dipshit had to explain to me why he was openly with another girl at Disneyland. He was not in the good books today. Oh no, he was in the dead books.

Or I could just mummify him, and ship him off to Egypt so they can deal with him.

My anger just boiled hotter everytime I thought about it. He basically just cut our deal off, and it was frustrating to know he'd do such a thing. How was I even kidding? He was Liam Fucking Blackwell.

Impatiently glancing at my wrist watch to check the time, he just wasn't showing up. What if he knows I saw him, and now he's trying to avoid me? I narrowed my eyes in skepticism.

The hallways started to fill up, and I hoped my best friend's didn't see me because they were gonna bombard me with a million questions.

When a random kid walked by, I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the locker. "Tell me where Liam is or I will gouge your pretty little eyes out with a blade," I demanded as I stared dead into his eyes.

The poor boy looked so frightened that he trembled under my gaze. He pointed down the hall. "He's i-in the locker room," he stuttered awkwardly. "But you aren't allowed in there."

A few students were staring so I let my grip loosen on his shirt as I straightened his now wrinkled shirt. "Sorry man, I didn't mean to do that," I apologized sincerely, "now get outta sight before I bash your head open."

He nodded, and ran down the hallway like the scared little boy he was.

All of my frustrations, and anger was getting the best of me. And the fact that Liam was making me feel something I didn't want to feel — retribution, wreak.

With new determination in my step, I stomped toward the boys' locker room and I didn't care about no stupid rules. Pushing the door open, I walked in. Ew. Jocks, and small dicks.

Their heads snapped toward the door, almost on cue, all of them covered their little prized possession. I couldn't care less about their insecurities. I was here to kill someone. Letting my eyes roam the locker room, I didn't see him.

"Dale, what the fuck man?" one of the jocks asked, a brown haired cutie. "You can't just come in here. This is strictly for football players." He emphasized the last part of his sentence.

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