History, Myerderrr and A Sick Sleepover

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His hand runs over my body lustily, the other smothering my screams, slowly creeping up my shirt despite my best efforts to push him away. His hot breath brushes over my neck, sending shivers up my body. I kick out, catching him in the shin, but he does little other than smirk at my attempts to get free.

"Just relax sweetheart, it'll be over soon. I promise." He whispers. Suddenly, he freezes, his body stiffening in shock. Blood seeps out of his mouth and he coughs, dropping me to the ground. I spring to my feet and dart around him, barely seeing the knife protruding from his back before I'm out of the dark alleyway, sprinting home and screaming for help.

~

That was my first experience with murder. I was only thirteen. The police were called, and I gave my best description of what happened. I was suspected of stabbing him in the back but was soon written off as innocent. There was no way I would be able to steal his kidneys with the state I was in. Oh yes, once I had run, someone had opened the dead man's body with a precision scalpel and taken his kidneys. It shocked the town I was living in, and was plastered all over the news. My second experience with murder was six years later, when I moved out of my parent's house into a larger town and joined a new school. This had happened just recently, and I was currently giving my report to the police.

"I-I've been bullied by her and her friends for a while, and she had- had punched me that day. They left me on the ground, and about an hour later I found her d-dead behind the school." I stutter, still in shock. I had a blanket draped over my shoulders, the edges of it clenched in my white-knuckled hands. The policeman nods, writing down what I said.

"I'm sure it must have scared you a lot. We'll get this sorted out, okay? I think it's best if everyone goes home for the day." He says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I nod, standing and walking to my car, unlocking the door.

"Um, excuse me, are you sure you're okay to drive? I heard what happened." A voice suddenly asks. I turn around, trembling, and come face to face with a young man in a bright yellow hoodie. His skin was pale, almost grey, and brown hair frames his face. He was wearing dark blue jeans and had hiking boots on.

"I-I-I should be f-fine." I mutter, "Thank you for the offer though."

"I suggest you take him up on his offer (Y/N), I don't think you should be driving around just yet." The policeman from earlier says, though not unkindly. He seemed to be worried about me. I hesitate for a moment but give in, slowly nodding and handing the keys to the young man.

"What's your name, young man?" The policeman asks.

"It's Ho- sorry, it's Brian. My friends call me Hoodie." Brian says, rubbing the back of his neck. The policeman quirks an eyebrow but nods, then turns to me once more.

"Stay safe kiddo. This will all be sorted out soon enough, so don't worry about it. Just take care of yourself for now." He says, giving me a reassuring smile. I force a small smile back, climbing into the passenger seat of my car. Brian takes the driver seat and asks me for my address. I give it to him and he starts the engine, rolling out of the parking lot. He drives in silence for the most part, only occasionally glancing over at me. I stare out the window at the houses as they roll past, still clutching the blanket around my shoulders. After a few minutes we pull into my driveway and Brian shuts off the engine, handing the keys back to me. I thank him quietly, then a thought suddenly occurs.

"H-how will you get home?" I ask, worried that I had dragged him out here with no way to get to his home. He lets out a quiet, warm chuckle.

"Don't worry, I can just ask my roommate to pick me up. Take care of yourself (Y/N)." He says, smiling over at me. I feel colour rise to my cheeks and quickly thank him again, leaving the car and walking briskly to my front door. I realise what he said and turn around, about to ask him how he knows my name, but he was already walking down the street with his phone pressed to his ear. I guess he just heard the policeman say my name. Unlocking the front door, I'm greeted by my husky jumping up on her back paws to press her front paws against my chest, howling in joy that I'm home. A small smile graces my face and I kneel on the ground to pat her, almost getting knocked over in the process. I laugh as she licks my face, pushing her off me so I can stand up again.

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