Mitch's P.O.V.
Jerome and I had just finished a death cup video, and Jerome was leaning up against the fridge looking very pale. I smiled gently at him but I didn't feel bad. He was the one who came up with the idea and he ended up with the worst stuff.
He had ended up with raw fish, jalapeños, yogurt, coffee beans and soap. He slumped down, landing on the ground, still leaning against the fridge. His head was against his knees and he still looked extremely nauseous, almost the point of throwing up.
"You okay buddy?" I crouched down beside him and ran my hand over his forehead and through his hair, which were both very sweaty. He looked almost deathly pale and clammy, he was breathing heavily through his mouth and leaning his head back against the sink cabinet, which he was up against.
He shook his head, his hand going to his mouth. I saw him heave but it was just a movement and nothing happened. I leaned down and pulled an ice cream container out of the cupboard beside me, holding it in front of him in case he was sick again and rubbing his back again.
"It's okay, it's okay, Jerom-" Jerome heaved again and this time he threw up, vomit splattering in the bowl. I held him close as he threw up three more times, almost missing the bowl once and his arms shivering and quaking from the effort of holding himself up.
Once he stopped he turned himself so he was pressing his cheek against the cold floor tiles, clinging to me. I heard feet clattering behind me and I turned to see Ryan otheriwse known as Tewtiy, who had previously been recording coming into the room. His eyes widened when he saw Jerome and then they drifted to me, scared and confused.
"Ryan can I have some help please?" I placed the bowl on the floor and pulled Jerome up so he was resting on my lap and then moved his head.
"Are you feeling okay now? You aren't going to be sick again?" He shook his head, his entire body relaxing although still shaking.
Ryan picked up the bowl, grimacing and then threw it down the sink, washing it away and spraying some nicer smelling washing thing around the area. He dried the bowl and then handed it back to me.
"Come on, lets get you up stai-"
"MOVE! GET ON THE GROUND!" I wheeled my head around and almost screamed out loud. There was a knife shoved almost in my face by a man wearing a balaclava and there was another man, with a knife and covered face forcing Ryan back towards us.
I held my hands out in front of myself, moving so I was directly in front of Jerome. Jerome had his head down and was clinging to the back of my sweatshirt, visibly shaking and his eyes closed, also trying to pull me back at the same time.
"I SAID MOVE! I WILL STAB YOU!" I didn't move, more focused on getting Ryan and Jerome behind me so they weren't in the range of fire. Ryan was still being pushed back by the second man, the knife inching closer every few seconds to force him to move.
"Seperate them, they're getting in the way." The second one, who had previously been pushing Ryan closer to us, bought the knife to his throat and started to drag him away, almost knocking his head on the kitchen bench. I reached out and pullled Ryan back, knowing it wouldn't hurt him as the knife was in front.
The first man pointed the knife at me, bringing it closer as I dragged Ryan back and pulled him behind me. I glared at him.
"I'm trying to be polite here but I swear if you move that knife any closer, so help me you won't live to see another day." He laughed.
"I won't?! I won't!? I'm the one holding the knife here, so you'd better be careful there sweetcheeks." He bought the knife up to my face, dragging it teasingly across my cheek and drawing blood. Behind me, Ryan whimpered and squeezed my hand, ducking his head when the other knife made its way closer to him.
