❛ MY BOY ❜ ʙɪʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴏᴠᴇ

TWENTY ! choices he never had

꧁ ❛ MY BOY ❜ ꧂
ᵇᶦˡˡʸ ʰᵃʳᵍʳᵒᵛᵉ

CHAPTER TWENTY
CHOICES HE NEVER HAD

TRIGGER WARNING !
violence                  &
references of  death

"YOU JUST WENT AND SPOILED IT FOR ME."

Sara shouted, her forehead growing sore with the frown and her knuckles turning white. Nancy did nothing but look at her feet in shame; the sheer selfishness she and Steve had acted on made her quiver in guilt and regret.
         Nancy's grip on the banister grew tighter as she began to form another apology but as she thought of the words, she realized how far beyond forgiveness she most likely was in Sara's mind. She knew in her best friends eyes how empty sorry sounded.

"Steve gave the jacket back," her tongue stumbled over the sentence. It felt as if she was biting on a blade and the blood was filling her mouth.
"I didn't want to see you get hurt."

"Well," Sara swallowed what tasted like salt, "I hope this is the outcome you pictured."

           And with that, Sara smiled. A pretty, bittersweet smile that poured an icy glaze over her shoulders. Sara was through with everyone making the decisions for her. This was it. She picked herself up and barged by Nancy on the stairs like a silent huntress. It was clear that a light inside had died out.
          She ran her hand through her hair three times in frustration and hopped on her bike, fixing the deadly glare in the direction she was heading.

"Sara! Please wait!" Nancy sprinted down the path, and eventually stopped when she received no reply.
           She watched Sara ride away. There was no more reasoning she could do. Nancy knew she had gone too far this time and there wasn't anything left to say.
Barb would know. Barb would have convinced Nancy not to get involved in the first place.

Hawkins was falling apart without Barbara Holland.

          Goosebumps shot up Sara's arms as she peddled towards the Hargrove's residence. Almost all the lights were out, but Billy's car was parked in the drive. She threw the bike on the sidewalk, pausing for a moment and worrying that apologising would be like wrapping a bullet with a bandaid.
          The house sat just like any other on the street, almost identical to the rest. Yet what lurked inside seemed so daunting that when she turned to the neighbors, it would've been easier to apologise for all the shouting that was about to take place.

           There was a thud from the inside of the house, and a quiet cry. Immediately Sara bolted to the front door. She hesitated. What if it was his father? A spiking fear pierced her stomach. What if Max was hurt?
          With a deep breath, she slowly turned the doorknob, expecting it to stop half way due to the locks. However, the door opened silently. The scene was concerning. A smashed bottle lay wet and sticky in the kitchen, a damp stain splashed across the wall. Max's skateboard was left in the middle of the floor.

          Holding in a whimper, Sara crawled upstairs, listening to the crying grow louder from Max's room. She pushed the door open slightly, watching the ginger girl flinch. Rapidly, Sara held up her finger to her lip. Max nodded, her chest rising and deflating at a speed that didn't appear healthy. A tear fell from her cheek.
           Sara recognised the feeling and remembered what Billy had done that one afternoon. It was better not to say anything, but hold her. She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over with comfort. Max sniffled into Sara's shoulder for a few seconds until she felt a little better.

"I think you're the only one he'll listen to." She said bluntly.

         In a way, Sara knew what Max meant, but there was no point in guessing with Billy. He was still a fire and it was still difficult to predict what he was going to do next. She went to leave the room.

"Sara," Max whispered from the door frame, "don't let him do it."
Before she could ask what, Max had closed it.

          Adrenaline flooded her system. It pumped and beat like it was trying to escape. She thought her heart would explode. Her eyes were wide with fear. Her body wanted to either run fast for the safety of the hills or to grab something of weaponry for defence, but instead she remained beside Billy's bedroom. She had to face it, there was really only one thing she could do: pray.

          Her hand shook for the handle, her plummeting feeling that was testing her bravery beginning to hurt. She could stand there forever going over every single thing that could go wrong, but she had to face the music in all its agony.
          She pressed the handle down, every inch the door opened feeling like pure electric. She stood still, her eyes closed.

Click.

She opened them. And there he was. On the floor and legs apart. His hair drenched with sweat. His eyes red and raw. A drink beside him.
And a gun in his hand, pointed towards her.

"Wait," he slurred, "I've got it mixed up... you'll blow my fucking brains out." He turned the gun to his head.

"Billy stop it." Sara said, numb. His voice broke her. He seemed lifeless.

"I said sorry," he gulped, "I said sorry and you didn't -- you still didn't love me back!" He cried, the hot teardrops rolling over his chin and dripping into his lap.

"I did. I did but I was scared," she shivered, taking a step forward, "Billy please don't do this. You have so many choices than this to make it all better--"

"No Sara!" He screamed, "I never have choices! I've never had what you have!" His voice cracked in between the cries, "You made me-- you made me feel like I'm not a fuck up. I'm not this stupid disappointment when I'm with you and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
          The saliva dribbled over his lips as he spoke, the excruciating pain and despair in his throat becoming the more prominent emotion in him.

"I'm sorry too," Sara managed over her own sobs as he clambered towards her with the gun.
           He shoved it in her hands and aimed it to his head. Her fingers could barely curl themselves over the trigger due to the terror. Her whole arm shook.

"Do it." He screamed in her face, "I'm so tired, Sara." His eyes met with hers.

          There was a steadiness to her, as if all the storms in the world had been silenced.

She pressed the gun beneath her chin and gulped, pulling the trigger without another thought.

"Fuck!" He grabbed her shoulders.

She did not fall. Or move. Or flinch. She just looked at him with kindness in her eyes.
"You'd never point a loaded gun at me, Billy."
She revealed the lack of bullets inside the weapon.

His wet face landed in the crook of her neck. She pulled him closer and threw the gun onto the floor.
"I'm sorry I'm a bad person"

"You're not a bad person. You're the result of what a bad person has done to you."

HEY. IT'S ME. MOOSE.

sorry for like disappearing
BUT I'm all better now

who's here for the Sara n Max friendship IK I AM

also Nancy is capable of apologies???
and i oop??

hey where's Steve?

:)))))

;) sleep tight.