In case you couldn't tell, I edited all three of these chapters. I began this story almost four years ago. I, along with my writing style, have matured a lot. I like this story a lot more with the edits, and I hope you do too. Enjoy :D
Olivia Benson, American Teenager
Chapter 3
Alex, Casey, Emily, Melinda, Becca, and I get dressed within ten minutes – me wearing a tight, baby blue, long-sleeved shirt, dark denim jeans, and my brown jacket. We chose to skip breakfast because Don had wanted us there as fast as possible. Don is not the type of person to over-exaggerate. We were the only ones home, so a ride was out of the question, not that John lives that far. We run out of my house, Emily slamming the door behind us.
For some reason, the closest we could get to the Munch residence was two houses away. Emily and I share a worried glance. We make our way through curious neighbors and random people until we find the boys. They are standing a few feet from a police car. I look around. I see another police car and an ambulance. In it is John's eleven year old sister, Amy, who is crying. A woman police officer is trying to console her. Mrs. Munch is with the other three police officers, surrounding Mr. Munch. I cannot get a good look at him or what is happening.
"What is going on?" I ask over the commotion.
"We think he is going to commit suicide," Don answers in a worried tone.
"How did you guys know to come here?" Emily questions.
"I–I got a call this morning fr-from Amy and…" John's voice trails off. He sounds like he is going to cry. Emily embraces him without a word. John cries.
Elliot stands next to me, holding me close. None of us say a word. We do not know what to say. Even if we did, it would not make any of this any better. It is a horrible situation. I shiver. Elliot takes off his jacket and puts it over me. John stops crying, but my sister is still holding him. I can tell he is scared. And worried. I don't think I have ever seen him like this.
Then it happens. Mr. Munch puts the handgun in his mouth and ends his life. I cannot believe it. I don't think any of us can. We are frozen in shock. He falls to the ground with a thud. Mrs. Munch drops to her knees, crying hysterically. Amy tries to get to her dad, but the police officer who was consoling her is now holding her back. The medics rush towards Mr. Munch. He is carried off on a stretcher. I do not think it will do any good. One of the police officers escorts Mrs. Munch to the same police car her daughter is in. Another officer starts toward John, who is now running towards The House (the S. A. A. clubhouse).
"So…what else happened?" Emily asks as we watch him run away.
"Well, while we were watching movies last night, his dad called and they started fighting. And then Munch told him something and hung up," Fin tells her.
"And when we asked him what up, he said it was nothing," Elliot adds.
We stand there in awkward silence for a few minutes. I didn't know silence could be this loud. I didn't know what to do. I want to check on him, I'm sure we all do, but he needs space.
Emily is the first to start running. She doesn't turn around when she asks us, "Are you guys coming, or what?"
"You know we are," Melinda answers, and, of course, we start to run.
As we run, I see something that makes me stop in my tracks – five thirty- to forty-year-old men with unshaven faces drinking beer, talking, and a few of them smoking. I know I am going to sound paranoid, but I think they are watching us. I want to say something, but I am not quite sure how to bring it up. Besides, something worse is going on right now. I am probably imagining things. At least I really hope I am.
…
When we finally reach The House, we see John collapsed on the couch, crying like I have never seen anyone cry before. We stand in the doorway, unsure what to do. None of us want to do anything that might possibly, in the slightest way, make him feel any worse. I feel horrible, but what can I do? I do not want to make him feel worse. I feel a comforting hand take mine. I do not have to turn to know who it belongs to. I give it a small squeeze.
"Hey, John." Emily is the only of us who walks into the room. John sits up his face is red and stained with tears. She uses her thumb to wipe one. She uses her free hand to grab his.
"He called me last night. He was yelling at me last night because I didn't do my chores before I left. We started arguing. He called me a wise ass and stuff, and I told him I hated his guts," John says slowly. He takes a deep breath before he continues. "And now…and now he killed himself."
"He won't die," she reassures him, even though she knows he will.
"Yes he will. He already did." He puts his head on her shoulder and starts to cry. "And it's all because of me!"
The rest of us look at each other. None of us know what to do. This is horrible. I cannot believe how selfish Mr. Munch is. How could he do this to John? To his family?
