I didn't do it

111 7 0
                                    

Same Night, 1:30am, Ariana's POV

My mouth widened as I realized what the fuck I did, but still I just pushed the girl off the balcony. What if I'm the crazy bitch?

What will I do with Dalton, he's going to think I'm a killer, he can't know about this, he can't.

I ran into our room and I saw Dalton on the ground packing his clothes, I anxiously said " Um, Becka just left, she said she is um going on a trip with her parents but she will come back in a  few days." He looked up at me with a weird expression " Ariana, what did you do , Becka's parents died 2 years ago".

I nervously said " Let's just say, Becka is going to go meet her parents again." Dalton looked at me with wide eyes, and I felt my knees collapse, as I went into the ground and cried,

I sobbed " I didn't mean it, I didn't mean to kill her, I didn't mean it, please forgive me, what's going to happen to me, Dalton, she pushed me please, the balcony was slippery please." I saw tears stream down his face, as he stared down at his suit case, after minutes of silence, he finally began " We have to go and get away from this house, I'll call my dad, he's a cop he can cover this up, I have this cabin down in beverly hills.'

I nodded and he motioned for me to get ready, he. Left the room, and I felt tears roll down my face, I walked into the bathroom and I saw dried tear stains and I saw my hair and honest I looked like a fucking wreck. I looked at my hands and , all of a sudden I was reminded of my hands pushing her off, and her haunting scream for help, I could imagine the pain, and the fear she felt knowing that she was about to exit this earth.

I shook out my thoughts, and I washed my face. I changed into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I got everything thing I needed and packed them in my suitcase. I tuck my phone into my pockets. I walked out of the room with my luggage, I turned to my left and saw the balcony , it was haunting to look at, knowing the crime I just committed.

I saw Dalton downstairs, he was in the kitchen with his head down on the counter. I walked into the kitchen and I heard sniffles, and I saw his back moving up and down. I walked to him and rubbed his back, he immediately got up and yelled " Don't fucking touch me, you fucking killed her, you asshole, you're lucky I'm saving you. do don't try to come and comfort me , you're the reason I'm crying."

I felt tears forming in my eyes but I brushed it away, I deserved this, I deserved to feel this, I deserved everything, I deserved the heartbreak and the guilt and the trauma because you know what, I'm a piece of shit. He took his luggage and so did I , we left the house, and we got into my car, he put my car in drive and we drove off, leaving her body there, leaving the memories there, leaving everything there.

A part of me ached to go back but I can't, I have to move on, because I didn't feel like I really killed her, I felt like my soul, my aching soul killed her, the trauma and the guilt and the pain killed her, and all of that was just living inside me, my body.

Traumatic LoveWhere stories live. Discover now