The Noble War// Tate Langdon

S.W.A.T

Tate POV

I sat on my bed. The drugs had nearly worn off. The pain hasn't though. It gets worse with every passing second, knowing that she won't come through that door to cheer me up. To let me kiss those soft pink lips. To let me hear her giggle when I'd said something stupid.

Truth be told she was still in the bathtub, water was turned off. I'd gotten out of the tub to pace around the bathroom like a mad man. I raked my hands through my shaggy hair and wailed. I'd finally fallen to my knees and begged for god, if there was one, to bring her back. But even if there was a god, I knew he wouldn't let me have her. As punishment for what I did.

The doorbell rang throughout the house. I know what's coming, and I wasn't nervous, I deserve it. If the cops don't do it, then I will. I've already killed so many people, why not myself.

"Does Tate Langdon live here?" I hear faintly.

"Yes, he's my son, what has he done?" My mother said anxiously.

"Move in." The man said. My mother had no idea that I set her boyfriend on fire, or killed 15 kids at Westfield. And one here. She rarely went upstairs during the day, unless Larry was here.

Probably hundreds of footsteps came flying up the stairs. My horrid mother's desperate pleads for me were going unnoticed, by me included.

"He's just a child! He's just a chi- TAAATEE!!" My mother screamed.

"PLEASE NO!" She cried, shakily.

I should have been a better son. I could have gotten good grades. I could have kept Lylah without hesitation, and she wouldn't be where she is now. Which just so happens to be dead, in my bathtub.

"We've got a dead body in the bathtub, call reinforcements!" One officer shouted.

"That won't be necessary. We've got him right here." A closer voice boomed. I flicked my head over swiftly to see a dozen SWAT team members folding my doorway.

"OH MY GOD LYLAH!" My mother screamed. As if she cared about her too. I stood up in front of the men and put my hands up in surrender.

You're not going with them Tate, show them that.

I put my hand up to my head, and slowly formed the shape of a gun. My face scrunched as I made a slight gunshot noise, nearly a quiet whisper. They looked at me in confusion.

Do it. It's ok. Let go. You want to die in the place your only love died. Together, like a fucked up Romeo and Juliet.

I'm scared.

Don't be. Do it. It will be over soon.

Ok.

I swiftly reached for the gun under my pillow and nearly pointed it at my head before hundreds of shots rang out. They hit my torso like tiny trucks, penetrating through my organs and out my back. I fell to the floor, practically in slow motion.

I heard my mother'a muffled screams and cries. I choked and gurgled on my own blood. A man walked to me slowly.

"Why did you do it?" He asked. I looked directly at him.

And everything went black.