Prologue Amelie He has a thin cigarette in his hand,as we lie on the stairs, and I hate him for that. I hate him for a lot of things right now. Including him being mine. “Did we actually do that? Did we really just FUCKING do that” his voice is high pitched and his eyes are wild, pools of blue that zip and dart in the dingy shadows.Matt, my Matt is electric his body is buzzing and his blood is coffee but I feel nothing my body is still and my blood is blood and I'm no different to any other day. Just the way this is no different to any other 9pm meeting we have except the Shoes that used to be white are flecked with red. Like rose petals on snow or red wine on white sheets. Except tonight it isn't 9pm and there's a lot more on the line that our school records except that it changes everything. “Matt….” I stare at him trying to covey a thousand words with one look but it's lost on him. The dark smoke around him matches his hair and closes off his pale face taking it away from me, marring the white skin with a grey smog. with wide eyes he sits up and runs a hand through his hair letting the chocolatey strands stand straight up, making him look quite frankly insane “Shit Amelie what if they catch us?” He laughs hysterically “what if they catch us?!” He grabs my hands with a desperate look on his face. How could I know what's going to happen if they catch us?? I'm not a bloody psychic. I say nothing, I never could lie to him and I don't see the point in trying. “Amelie?! Where are you going…” I pull away from Matt. I pull away from what we did. I pull away because now we're linked forever this can never be another high school relationship because if they catch us we won't even graduate high school “Lee?!” He leaps up as I step back subconsciously. There's dust in my hair and my eyes and I'm floating in grey because all of a sudden it's sunk in and my heart is racing. “lee where are you going?” His voice is high as he screeches he's switched in seconds as if he's tuned into my mind “shut up Matt” I panic because what if people can hear us up here? Then what will we do? “Why should I shut up, nobody can hear us” his voice sounds menacing to my ears and I start to worry. It's a stupid worry I know because what we did it was my idea and Matt is harmless right? He wasn't threatening me saying nobody could hear us right? My heart races and I flick my head back to check in the shadows behind me. The hair on the back of my neck prickles and my skin feels tight over my bones. Everything is peaceful and quiet but it's a heavy quiet filled with things unsaid and things not done. So I run my converse smacking on the concrete as I fling myself down stairs my heartbeat pounding in my head and my blood churning round my ears. I've never run like this before, like my life depends on it and maybe, I think when I remember the glint in his eyes, it does. An unearthly shriek splits the silence as well as the sky, I feel it rip through me as he shouts “AMELIE!” Matt “AMELIE!” My cries die out as she slams the door. Holy shit. What just happened. I look down the stairs and I can see all the way to the bottom the yellow halogen lighting gives everything a sickly glow. GOD why did I shout? She panicked, I was never going to do anything to her! She knows I wouldn't doesn't she? I shut my eyes but all I can see is her brown eyes wide and scared as she starts to run, the yellow light washes her out making her look like a recovered fragment of a renissense painting a slight halo of dust encircles her head making her look like an angel but what we did wasn't angelic or heavenly what we did was… my poetical line of thinking is drowned out by that word- murder- I'm a murderer? I feel as if it's stamped on my head in red ink…red like blood, I've always had a strong stomach but apparently not when it comes to the blood of my enemies “weakling” my dad would say but when I think of what we did of what he looked like I can't help but…acid rises up and I gag vomit bursting out my mouth and spilling onto my hands but when I look down it's not vomit it's blood, pouring red through the gaps in my fingers but when I look again it's oozing out of not the cracks in my fingers but the cracks in his head. Ew Matt… I shake my head like a wet dog until I realise my cheeks actually are wet I open my mouth to speak but all that comes out is a shaking gut wrenching feral cry whether it's born of fear or anger or remorse I don't know but it consumes me, this raw feeling, and I let it. Because maybe that's what a murderer would do. (I'm rewriting it in a notebook right now so this is but a rough draft, feel free to comment on any improvements i could make) ♡