Hey, One shot suicide/murder song fic!
Hope you all like it, I sure do. The song I chose is Runnin by Tupac feat. Notorious B.I.G…. Please review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Runnin, the song, or Beyblade.
---------
Thoughts
Actions
"Speech"
Lyrics used as thoughtsOoOoOoOoOoOoO - change in Point of view and scene
-----------
This is it. My last chance. I screw this up and its over for me. Over.
I stepped out from the overhang, the street lamps bathing me in unwanted light.
Gotta do this quick. Gotta do this silently. Gotta do this now.
My footsteps were light, unnoticed, just like I wanted. I moved quickly, walking along the fence, my hand in my pocket, gripping the handle of my pistol. A prickling sensation began at the back of my eyes, but I pushed it away, crying made what I was about to do worse.
I took a deep breath as I arrived outside the Granger yard. I was here. Calming myself as much as I possibly could, I stepped onto the dry grass surrounding the dojo.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
I just don't get it. Its like they don't care anymore. Everyone's gone. They all left. They don't care. Bunch of liars.
I threw another ball of paper at the wall, watching it bounce into the wastebasket. I let out a loud sigh, resting my head in my hands.
Does nobody care about me? I thought I was a good person. I thought people liked me. I try, don't I?
A creak of the veranda at my door startled me, and I looked up at my open door. Lost in my grieving thoughts and self-pity, I hadn't even heard anyone coming up to the house. To my door. With a gun.
That's when the bullet hit me. Ripped through my chest. Killed me. And all I could think of was 'You know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I am dead…'
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let the tears flow as I ran away from the dojo, from the murder I had just committed.
I killed Tyson Granger. I killed him… Oh god. Oh god, forgive me. But it was my life or his.
My feet slapped noisily as I ran down the empty streets of the suburban area the Grangers lived in.
He had friends. Family. I don't, why did I kill him? I should have let myself die… I should have. I'm a bad person. I will go to hell for this. It's too late for me now.
Gasping and out of breath I came to a halt beside a set of stairs leading up the side of an old warehouse. Silently, lost in my bad thoughts, I walked up them. I knocked five times when I reached the door, then kicked it, the password. It opened and I walked inside, wiping my tears away. It was pitch black inside, and I took a deep breath. The lights all of a sudden flickered on, and I saw my boss sitting behind a desk a few feet away. He looked angry.
What did I do wrong? Oh… does it even matter anymore?! I don't care if I die. I should die! Why am I fighting to live, if I'm just living to fight…
"Cassandra, dear." Sir said, gesturing me forward. I gulped my fears back and walked right up to his desk, and bowed slightly. He folded his hands on his desk, never a good sign.
I did something wrong… in more ways than one….
"I killed him Sir. Tyson Granger is dead. Like you requested…" I said, my eyes sore from crying, and I hoped it didn't show. Sir doesn't like crybabies. At all.
My life is shit. I realize that now. I shouldn't have run away from home. I should have gone to school. Learned something useful, not how to kill someone as silently as possible. If I got out of this alive, I swear, I will never kill again. But I don't think I'm gonna live through this. This is my end…
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
"What?" I gasped, falling to my knees. I placed my hand to my forehead as the police repeated what they had just told me.
"Tyson Granger is dead. He was shot three hours ago. Died instantly. We don't know who the murderer is, but we're searching the city for them." Tears escaped m closed eyes, and I took a shuddering breath.
"Thank you for telling me" I managed to say before hanging up. I tuned my body so I was leaning against the wall. I sobbed into my knees. I heard my mom come in, asking frantically what was wrong. But I could deal with it at the moment.
Tyson's dead. What.. how…. Why?! Why would they kill him…. I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have come home to America. I should have stayed. He'd be alive. I could have stopped this.
"MAXIE!" My mom pleaded, shaking my shoulders lightly. I looked up at her with big blue eyes and I think she read my thoughts.
"Tyson?" She asked, her voice breaking. I nodded, and whispered one word before blacking out; "Shot."
The world around me was dark. I don't know why. It just was. I felt my feet hit something, and I knelt down to feel it. Grass. Straightening up I looked around and to my surprise, I was standing in the Grangers yard. I ran up to the dojo, remembering the phone call.
I must find Tyson. Must. Find him.
Running up to the open door of his bedroom, I saw policemen surrounding something lying on the ground.
Tyson. No. Not Tyson. Please, not Tyson.
I struggled to see past them, see what they were looking at, talking about. I had to see. I found an opening between two people, and squeezed through them.
Then everything went black.
No! Where did he go? TYSON!?
Why am I trying to see, when there aint nothing in sight?
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
I walked up to the Granger household. It was still surrounded by reporters. Still.
I got out of that hell hole. How? Don't know. But I must make things right. I killed him. I must make peace.
I walked up to the mob surrounding the front door of the dojo. Pushing through them I made my way up to the front. Turning to face them I put on a stern look and prayed to God this would work.
"The police are coming to arrest any and all reporters found on the Grangers property. If you want to keep your jobs, I'd suggest leaving." I yelled as loud as I could, with as much authority as I could muster. They all look at each other, and reluctantly, packed up their things. I smiled triumphantly as the last reporter left a few minutes later.
"What are you doing?" A female voice asked from behind me. I swung around to see a girl with brown hair and ruby eyes staring at me with fright. Hillary. Tyson friend.
The fear, grief and sorrow in her eyes was plain to see.
I did that. I took her friend away from her.
"I want to help." I said sadly, holding my hands over my heart.
Her sad features all of a sudden twisted in anger.
"NO YOU DON'T! NOBODY DOES! Everyone want to bother us! YOU'RE NO DIFFERENT! NOW LEAVE!"
I gasped as she slammed the door in my face, and I could hear sobs coming from the other side.
Why am I trying to give, when no one gives me a try?
Because I'm a bad person. I killed him. No one should give me a try. I shouldn't either.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
The answer to life came to me a few hours after that horrible phone call… Life is about death. You live, but you die. If your life isn't worth living… you die. Simple. Easy. An escape. My escape.
I stood in the bathroom of our New York apartment. I looked in the mirror, and saw a sad boy. A sad boy with limp blonde hair, and blue eyes that made people cry. Me. My sorrow. In my eyes. A mirror of my soul.
I must end this.
I grabbed the steak knife off the counter and raised it to my wrist.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Tyson's not here. Life used to be important. Not anymore. Everyday was a new chance to make Tyson fall in love with me. Just like I was in love with him. But those chances are gone. Like him. Like my life.
I stood in the locked bathroom of Tysons dojo. Tears streaming down my face, I wanted an escape. Constant pain was all I had here. But if I were dead... The pain would be gone. I could be free.
It was the answer.
I picked up Tysons Dragoon. The attack ring would be sharp enough. I twisted it off, barely able to see past my ever flowing tears. I picked it up with a shaky hand. Placed its sharp edge to my skin.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Bad person, bad person, bad person…
I will go to hell. But hell must be better than my life now. Constant torment from my guilty conscience. I just wanted to get away. I could run. I could run all I wanted. I could run to Canada, to England to the nearest town. I could run from the police. From Tysons grieving family and friends. I could run from it all. But I can't run from myself. There's only one way to do that.
Death. A second life. I would be in hell. But it'd be better. And I deserve it.
I grabbed my pistol out of my pocket, and raised it to my head. My hand was shaking like mad. But with one easy pull of the trigger, I would get what was coming to me.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
And as two razors were pulled across two grieving wrists, and one trigger was pulled, three lives ended before their time. Three unneeded deaths. Like mine was. I didn't need to die. But it happened. My two friends and my murderer, dead. As twisted as it is, I didn't want my murderer dead. She didn't want to kill me. It wasn't her choice. As much as she thought it was.
As for Max and Hillary, well there was nothing I could do. They loved me so much. Like I loved them. At least we'd all be able to talk again, here in heaven. I hope Cassandra doesn't go to hell. I'd like to meet her. Thank her, for releasing me from my own self. If she hadn't killed me, I would have.
But those three people, three suicides. They thought the same thing. They had one last single thought, tying them together.
Why am I dying to live, if I'm just living to die?
Did everyone like it? It's very sad. And confusing…. Let me know what you think.