Naia's POV

It took a while, but eventually, I did calm down enough for Gabby to pull me to my feet.

"Let's get you cleaned up," She said gently and wet a facecloth with warm water before carefully wiping the bloody handprint off my face. When she seemed satisfied, she then wiped my bloody hands.

I looked down when she was done to see that my hands were tinged orange from the blood.

Did blood stain your hands?

"Do you wanna take a shower before bed?" Gabby asked me and I nodded. Her voice was cautious as if I was a ticking time bomb.

Let's be real. Aren't I though?

Gabby turned to leave but then paused, "Do you want me to take your jacket?"

I looked down at the jacket. It was originally a light blue but now it was more of a red colour than anything.

"No, it's okay," I whispered and Gabby nodded before leaving the room.

Slowly, I bent down and picked up the jacket. I highly doubted the blood would wash off. My fists were clenched so tightly, my knuckles were white, a huge standout against my orange skin.

Gently, I placed the jacket back on the floor and started the shower before stripping the rest of my clothes off. I got in and let the warm water rush over my body. I saw the purple-blue blotches on my ribs and stomach and looked away.

Blurple.

I dumped a generous amount of shampoo onto my head and rubbed it in before rinsing it off.

When I had finished cleaning myself, I got out and tied my hair loosely into a bun on the top of my head. I then wrapped a towel around me before going to my room and changing into a pair of sweatpants and one of Matt's old Truck 81 t-shirts. I went back to the bathroom and looked into the mirror.

The girl who stared back at me wasn't the girl I was before.

Sighing, I took out my hair and was about to brush and dry it but decided not to. I turned off the light and went to the living room where Matt and Gabby were, seated on the couch.

"Hey!" Matt said when he saw me. A huge smile was on his face and I knew then how much they loved me.

I flashed a quick smile back before looking down, unsure of what to do now.

"Come," Gabby said, patting the part of the couch next to her, "Come sit with us."

I nodded and went over before curling up on the couch next to Gabby. She wrapped an arm around me and pulled her closer towards her side.

"Do you wanna talk about it Munchkin?" Matt asked gently. Hesitantly would be a better word to describe it.

I shook my head and instead just buried my head into Gabby's shoulder.

"Naia," Gabby said quietly in my ear, "I think it would be good for you to talk about it."

I shook my head once again but didn't look up at any of them.

What else was there to say? Jane was dead. She shouldn't be dead. She wasn't supposed to be dead.

The gun was on me, so why it ended up killing Jane, I don't know.

"Can I go to bed now?" I asked and I looked up and Gabby and Matt who both nodded.

"Do you want us to tuck you in?" Gabby asked but I shook my head.

"I'll be okay," I whispered, "Good night."

Matt nodded, "Sweet dreams."

I smiled politely but highly doubted my dreams tonight would be sweet.

"Good night," Gabby said and I nodded before turning and heading to my room. I paused when I saw the bloody jacket still on the bathroom floor. I stared at it for a little while before forcing myself to go and pick it up. I brought it back to my room, not fully knowing what to do with it so I dropped it on the ground.

I climbed underneath the cold covers and turned on the lamp. Crossing my arms across my chest, I stared up at the ceiling while the events of tonight flashed in front of me.

I couldn't get rid of the image of Jane dying in my arms out of my head so reluctantly, I turned off the lamp and got out of bed. I crept towards the window and pulled the curtains apart slightly just so I could see out of it.

Chicago was incredibly pretty at night. I leant against the window and flattened my hands against the cold glass. As the tears started rolling down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against the window. Jane's death played like a video in my head before I broke down into quiet sobs.

Shaking my head, I looked back out the window and stared at the dark silhouettes of buildings. In distance, I heard a siren and wondered if it was a police siren another round of sobs racked my body.

Shakily, I turned around away from the window and lowered myself to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. As I leaned against the wall underneath the window, I noticed my jacket and reached over to grab it.

I pulled the jacket across my knees and buried my head into it. It smelled like blood. Back in fifth grade, my science teacher told us that the metallic smell of blood was the iron in it. So I guess my jacket smelled like iron. Not that it made a difference. That was still Jane's blood.

As my vision clouded with tears, I buried my head into the jacket and sobbed into it, taking in the smell.