14
Matthew twitched slightly, his eyes on Alfred's dirty finger nails, holding the gun closer to him. He could smell the metallic tang.
"Al… Kill me and get it over with, then."
Alfred began to press down on the trigger, but ripped it away and aimed it at their apartment, shooting. Matthew looked back, just in time to see a man holding a radio's head burst. Red mist sprayed from his head and painted the white walls behind them. He dropped the radio on the floor and leaned forward, on the ledge, and falling off the building, landing on a car and causing its alarm to go off.
Matthew felt queasy.
"Why didn't you shut the door?" Alfred hissed.
"Why did you kill him?" Matthew spat back.
"I killed him because that is larceny!"
"Let the police do it!" Matthew lashed his arms about.
"Why?" Alfred was beginning to anger. He turned away and started off towards the nearby pub. Matthew decided to leave him alone. He passed the dead body, still smoldering, and quietly entered his house. He continued to pack away his things, feeling it necessary to go quickly. He shoved it all in his back pack, empty of his school supplies now. He went to Alfred's car, now his in reality, and started to drive towards Kat's house. He wished he had a gun.
Kat lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood, secretly pompous and beautifully decorated with mothers cleaning out their lawns and kids playing on the streets. When they noticed Matthew's beat up truck, the mothers called their children back in alarm. The crowd evaporated as though Matthew had rushed in with a fire.
He slid out of his car and saw Kat making her way down the street, carrying her backpack and keeping her eyes to the ground. She stopped before him and her eyes widened.
"Let's go, come on," he cooed, nice and smoothly. She noticed the blood stains on his hand from touching his door knob, coated with the brains of that thief. "I don't want to fight, but I want what's best for us."
"Don't you mean what's best for you?"