Chapter Four

"i don't really remember much of it to be completely honest."

we walked beside each other to our seats at the food court. he held his tray of caesar salad and cashews in shaky hands.

"i was last month, in third period, and i saw him and his friends talking behind me. but, yknow Tyler and his friends. they're always talking in class,

so i didn't think much of it. then-" he wriggled in his seat. "then i heard 'becca "

i stared at him confused. "why would they-"

"i shot around and asked him what they were talking about, but he wouldn't answer me." he paused.

i took a moment to look at my brother. he was sweating and had a look of restlessness on his face like he wanted to shout to the whole room, "I killed a man!"

He hadn't touched his food. his hands were stuffed deep in his pockets, like her was embarrassed of them or something. embarrassed of what they did.

"class ended and Layla told me not to worry about it. i should've listened but it was a hard thing not to worry about. she's my girlfriend though so she's kinda supposed to calm me down." dylan shifted in his seat.

"the next day came everybody was lookin' at me all funny. i've never been popular Eva, you know that. but, it wasn't a "hey loser" look. it was a "you're gross" look. i just knew Tyler and his minions had something to do with it.

so, in third period i told him to meet me after school in the parking lot and we'd settle things there. But then that little *bitch*, he- he- he said,

"i'm not fighting somebody who fucked their sister"

i was in shock, Eva. He told the whole school I fucked and killed my OWN DAMN SISTER!" dylan roared.

"dylan, shush." i said trying to calm him down.

"that was messed up though"

"sorry." he said breathing heavy.

"continue"

"For the next month he bullied me relentlessly with the worst thing that ever happened to me. even layla started to believe it. i had no friends, no credibility, and worst of all her name lived in his mouth. Becca this, Becca that, it made me physically sick. One day at lunch he came up to me and said the usual,

"creep" "weirdo" "sister fucker" etc etc." then it what he said next was the last straw.

"I wish she was here so i could maybe give her a go too."

i closed my eyes. tears kept pouring out from them.

"i knew he was having a sleepover with his cousins that day and- his parents wouldn't be home-" he shut his eyes too. i couldn't help it. it was like a weird dream. it just happened.

"that's not a reason to KILL SOMEBODY!" now most of the food court was looking at us, but i was worried about bigger things.

" i didn't kill him, Eva. all i did was stab him. i helped him call 911 and everything. i killed his cousin.

"dylan-"

"i wanted him to hurt like us. if he's dead he can't hurt, can he?"

"you killed an innocent guy, dylan!" i yelled at him. "you're a bitch!"

i stormed off. dylan didn't follow me. he just sat there. eating his salad.

i stared at the metal on the elevator " 344, 344,

344" i kept repeating the room number that the receptionist lady gave me.

it was a lot processing what dylan had just told me. not only had he killed an innocent man, he did it only to make someone hurt like we do.

i remember those words he said.

"i wanted him to hurt like us. if he's dead he can't hurt, can he?"

so different from just a few years ago. it once was,

"i don't ever want to kill anyone. i know i've joked about killing but i don't want to, Eva. i don't and anyone to feel like we do. i'd never wish this on anyone."

"i don't even wanna look at him anymore." i said to myself.

DING!

the elevator arrived on the third floor. i was so anxious to see my mom. it seemed like every time

i saw her she looked sicker and sicker. more of herself was starting to fade away with each visit.

i walked down the hallway. there were photos of random things on the walls, dying flowers and deflated balloons. it was quite depressing for such a nice hospital.

"342...343...344" i whispered to myself. i reached for the door handle. but then i stopped. why was i so nervous? this is the woman who raised me, comforted me when i cried, fed me bathed me, why did i want to go home? i crept my hand to the handle and timidly pushed it open. i peeked my head in. i was struggling to breathe.

"m-mom?"