Bloody Knives in My Leftovers

Chapter 3: There's Vomit on my Sweater Already

!!A WARNING THAT THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SERIOUS DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE, VIOLENCE AND DEATH THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE THING!!  PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ⚠

Turns out taking a nap after watching your friend kill a man did not work as well as you hoped it would. You spent the rest of the evening hunched over the toilet bowl, a towel on the tile beside you as you dry heaved like a cat.

It was nothing less of a complete mental breakdown, the reality of the situation finally sinking in.

Your best friend and Starbucks coworker burned a man alive.

You couldn't even picture her response to it, how she would try to explain why and when. Your hands were violently shaking as you wiped your mouth, finally sitting up after what felt like hours. The contents of your lunch and breakfast sat below you as you wretched again, forcing your eyes away from the scene.

The rest of the apartment was dark, Bailey was obviously still at Riley's place, probably still blissfully unaware of the whole thing, you envied her. You envied anyone who didn't sit at an icy bus stop at one thirty in the afternoon, watching someone they thought they knew set fire to a whole goddamn house. A migraine was coming on.

Your legs felt like they would give out any second as you walked into the kitchen, flipping on the lights and opening cupboards to try and find the medicine Bailey kept for her study headaches. The bright pink sticky note stared you down as you clumsily navigated the room, the sweet message left by your roommate feeling like a toothpick to the heart. You wondered if Riley felt any guilt.

You dismissed the thought as soon as it arrived in your mind, there was no way Riley didn't feel bad about it. You saw the way her knuckles went white and the reflective tear streaks that stained her cheeks. She definitely did what she thought was right, which made you consider a lot of fucked up things.

What situation got so bad that it justified cold blooded murder? You thought back to the video again, as much as your body begged you not to.

"You ruined our lives Dennis!! You murdered your friends, WE TRUSTED YOU!"

Obviously it seemed like this dude, Dennis, did his own fair share of sinning that night. Possibly worse than Riley's. Although after seeing his wet and drooping eye sockets you couldn't even imagine what was worse.

You grabbed a cup of water and tipped down the little red ibuprofen pills you managed to get ahold of. It wasn't the strongest, but it could at least tide you over till you stopped vomiting up everything that went in your stomach. Your phone rang again as you finished swallowing.

With a longer than necessary pause you stared in the direction of your things, your bag, phone, and jacket all laying in a pile on the couch. The ringing was muffled so you knew it was buried somewhere in the depths of the mild mess.

One deep inhale later you placed your cup down with a 'tap!' and walked over to the couch. You yanked the jacket away and shoved your bag to the corner of the sofa, finally uncovering your dingy little phone.

Seven texts from Bailey, three from Riley's number, and one missed call from an unknown number. You didn't bother checking the number, or calling it back. It was most likely some scammer trying to contact you about your car's extended warranty or some shit.

You decided to check Bailey's texts first, maybe it would help calm your jumbled nerves. Besides, she was most likely out of her mind with worry at this point. You never explained why you suddenly went ghost silent, or why you didn't show up to Riley's place.

(Y/N)? Hey are you ok?
Sent at 5:34 PM

You're worrying us, did something happen?
Sent at 6:00 PM