"You do?"

My phone rings and the screen flashes with Mum's contact. I instantly feel sick as I replay the way Jake slammed Trevor's face into the floor. The crack and echo of the impact plays on a loop in my head. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, wondering whether Trevor is still alive. He certainly didn't look it when I last saw him.

I decline the call and a text message pops up seconds later. I grit my teeth together and turn my phone off, tossing it onto the bed. I really did not want to deal with that right now. Part of me is terrified for Trevor but the second half is pleased he experienced pain.

Does that make me a sick individual?

I wouldn't wish anyone to be hurt, especially by the hands of another human being. However I can't help feel like Trevor deserves it. I sigh, rubbing my temples with my hands. A soft knock on my bedroom door catches my attention —