What Nathan Knew

MONDAY

"It's cool Nathan … Don't stress, you're okay, bro. Just count to three," Nathan spoke to himself as he entered the girls' bathroom.

One.

He took a deep breath as he felt his knees shaking. His hands were cold and sweaty; he swallowed, looking into the mirror. His cheeks burned with excitement while the rest of his face was white as snow. They were just joking around, he thought as he let his gaze wander over the doors. Nobody there, good. Some girl seeing him like that, hyperventilating because of some guys fooling around, was the last thing Nathan needed. He was the king of Blackwell, and everybody knew that.

"Don't be scared, you own this school," he said to himself, starting to feel a bit better, "if I wanted, I could blow it up. You're the Boss." That's right. He was the boss, and there was no Hayden, or anybody else, who could mess with him.

Two.

They were joking around, nothing more. They didn't know shit and it was just some phrase Hayden had said. It was a phrase he could've said to anybody. "Nathan Prescott, always getting his things straight … or not so straight." It was a joke and everybody had laughed, including Nathan, then Taylor had started speaking of the End of the World party on Thursday evening. Nothing more. A fucking joke. Nathan inhaled deeply, trying to avoid the thought of Hayden knowing. Knowing it, knowing everything. After he had said that, Nathan's heart had started to race, and he had felt cold sweat of shame wetting his back, shorty before standing up and claiming that he needed to use the bathroom, and – to make matters worse – he had seen this punk bitch following him the down the hallway.

Hayden didn't knew shit about Nathan. Nobody knew, and nobody suspected a thing. Everything was ok. There was nothing Nathan had to worry about. Nathan took out his pills and swallowed two of them. Then he looked up.

Three.

"So what do you want?" Nathan snarled when the girl with the blue hair and the tatts entered the room.

"I hoped you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say," she said. Nathan didn't give a fuck about her step-ass and about that stupid expression. The girl checked if they were alone, then looked at him sternly.

"Now, let's talk bidness–"

"I got nothing for you," Nathan hissed, but this bitch proceeded to piss him off. Nathan wasn't scared of her, he wasn't scared of anybody since he got that gun.

"Wrong. You got hella cash," she said, looking at Nathan who was observing her through the dirty mirror. Now, Nathan finally remembered her name: Price … Chloe Price, Rachel Amber's personal bull dyke. Did she really think she could scare him.

"That's my family, not me." Why did nobody seem to understand that?

"Oh boo hoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumpin' drugs n' shit to kids around here," she said like she was fucking Sherlock Holmes, then she got close to him, looking at him with that steady gaze she thought she could scare him with and make him wet his pants like she had almost done, laying in his room, whining. Oh, what a beautiful yet pathetic sight. Nathan opened his mouth, ready to roast that bitch, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain penetrating his head, making him slouch his shoulders. Fuck! Not again! Fuck, that hurt.

"Ugh," Nathan said, trying to interrupt Chloe's pathetic attempt of threatening him, but without her noticing. The pain got worse and Nathan held his breath, trying to focus on something different than Hayden suspecting he was gay or Chloe screaming at him. But without success. He clenched his fists as his headache got worse.

"I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself!" Chloe screamed. That bitch didn't just say that.

"You don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with!" Nathan yelled as he got up and gnashed his teeth, feeling his rage burn in his stomach. This slut knew nothing about him, and yet she decided to continue fucking around with him. His heart was racing when he approached her, staring at her in an outburst of rage.

"Ugh, sh-shit," Nathan mumbled as he shrieked, feeling another wave of throbbing pain in his head.

They know it!, he heard a voice say. It wasn't a joke and you know it. Stop! Someone needed to make this stop! Nathan held his breath as he began to stagger, trying to keep his eyes opened which suddenly felt like he hadn't sleep for years. Then a smirk, blue hair showing under the black cap, folded arms, screwed up eyes, looking at him in a mixture of curiosity and victory.

Before realizing, Nathan had been aiming his gun at Chloe, and her expression changed within seconds.

"Where'd you get that? … What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" she stuttered as Nathan had pushed her to the wall, putting his gun on her stomach.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do," Nathan screamed as he punched against the wall, scaring Chloe to death, "I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!"

Fuck , his head felt like it was going to explode, like nitroglycerine, ready to blow up. Nathan swallowed, everything was so blurry, and he needed to concentrate on not passing out. His hands were sweaty and suddenly, his gun felt like a hot stone laying between his fingers. His head started spinning, and he noticed his hands shaking. Shit, he was actually going to pass out …!

"You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs," Chloe whispered, and Nathan tried to focus on her eyes, sparkling with fear as she felt Nathan burying pressing his gun more and more on her stomach. This , Nathan thought, this is it. This magical expression you couldn't give me back then, you wee bitch. It welt so wrong yet so good, knowing that her life was laying in his hands, knowing that it was him who had the power to decide about her future, about her death. Nobody could control him, not Sean, not Blackwell, not Chloe. He looked at Chloe, tearing up as she begged for getting that gun away from him, holding her shaking hands up as if it would help, and it got quieter and quieter as the the noises started to fade away. God, this was so much better than a girl who was drugged, better than any photoshoot Mark and him had ever done.

"Ugh," Chloe screamed, trying to free herself out of Nathan's grip, and suddenly, Nathan had woken up from his daydream, "get that gun away from me, psycho!"

The shot was loud and shrill, almost splitting Nathan's ear. He dazedly looked down, noticing warm blood flowing out of Chloe's stomach, floating the ground under her knees he had sank to.

"No …" he gasped, breathlessly looking at the girl he just had shot. His eyes widened in terror, but he couldn't move for his body was paralyzed with shock.

"N-no …! FUCK!"

He fell on his knees, desperately shaking Chloe's lifeless body, crying and screaming her name.

"No, not again …! No, no, no! No, Chloe! CHLOE! NO!" Nathan cried, shouting her name with all his strength, but Chloe didn't move.

The blood was flowing out off her stomach like a waterfall, soaking Nathan and Chloe's clothes.

He had done it again. He had killed another girl. Nathan looked at his hands, which were stained with blood, hearing Rachel Amber's voice whispering into his ear.

"You killed her! You killed her, you're a murderer, who has two dead girls on his conscience."

Then, Nathan breathlessly sank to the ground, realizing what was awaiting him, feeling the warm blood of the dead girl's corpse next to him and seeing Rachel Amber's dark gloomy look resting on him, judging him.

And the voices – the voices wouldn't stop.

"I'm going to ask you once," the judge asked, looking at the photo of Rachel Amber who had been found in the junkyard, "considering you're under oath …"

Nathan looked to the seats of the court room, noticing that Sean wasn't there. He had been serious when he had said that he wouldn't come, wishing Nathan not to be his son.

"Did you kill Rachel Amber?"

Nathan took a deep breath, then he raised his head, looking directly into Mark's eyes. Mark, the only one who had come, his mentor, his best friend, his love. Nathan wouldn't see his friends ever again, wouldn't see Vic, wouldn't see Zach … or Warren.

But Mark would be there, like he had always been, and Nathan would do anything for him. Mark nodded lightly, then Nathan turned around, facing the judge.

"Yes," Nathan said, and he knew he wouldn't be alone. Mark would be there, and with him, it would be okay.

It was quiet in Arcadia Bay; young deers were grazing in a forest glade, and some whales were calmly swimming just above the surface, gliding through the ocean.

"I killed Rachel Amber."