𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒

The body

TW: slight gore!!!

pls don't read ahead if you don't like/don't want to read about/have like, ptsd or something that relates to gore???
I dunno :)
But u should be comfortable when ur reading.
thank you!

Venus's pov

James and I have been staring at the body for quite a long time now. It seems almost like a dream to me at this point, it seems like reality is no longer a thing.

"James." I say to him quietly, my voice shaking. I feel stupid right now. I hate showing people that I'm scared or nervous. I want to seem tough and not to be fucked with.

"Yeah?" He asks, the same shaky tone is laced in his voice.

"Let's get out of here. Like right now." I say quickly. I then walk out of the room without anymore words.

I run down the stairs, and out the front door of the house. James quickly follows me, and we start to walk down the road. We can't just go walking casually around like this. We need a car. Perfect. I see a navy blue car parked on the side of the road, and I walk up to it. I take the pocketknife that I always keep with me out of my pocket, and use the back of it to smash the window. I unlock the doors from the inside. "James, get in." I yell, he nods and gets in the car without a sound.

I open up my knife, and stick it into where the key to the car is supposed to go, I twist it a few times, and the car starts up. I hear a "wow" from James, and look up at him. I laugh at the surprised expression on his face. "Where'd you learn how to do that?" He asks in awe.

"I learned to do it myself." I say effortlessly. "Got better with experience I guess." I add.

The two of us hop in the car and drive off in a hurry.

-🕸-

James and I have been on the road for a couple of moths now, we've gone to a few run down restaurants and seen our faces on tv. That's defiantly not good news. I've dyed my hair, and cut it. I look different enough I guess. James has just started to wear different clothes, he doesn't look that different, but I guess it'll do.

We've done a lot of things since James killed that guy. I keep on having flashbacks to his cold dead face and his hollow eyes. I went and lived with my uncle for about a week and a half; he was a total fucking douche bag. I've become pretty good at pick pocketing people, and even better at shoplifting without getting caught. We barely have to pay for anything anymore. I guess you could call us crime lords, James called me that one day. I've laughed at it every time I think about it, and I think about it a lot.

And of course, I couldn't forget that we almost got caught by the police a few times. I did get caught once when I was stealing something, but I somehow got out of it. And I was lucky, if they turned me in, I would have been recognized by the police and... well, I couldn't really tell you what would happen after that.

We're really far away from where we used to live. I honestly don't remember what life was like before this happened. I don't remember what I was like when I lived with my mom in our boring old house, and lived in that boring old town, and went to that boring old school with all the cookie cutter people in it. No one thought for themselves and no one even had any personalities. It was just pathetic if I'm being perfectly fucking honest.

-🕸-

Right now, James and I are sitting in a diner, just like we've been doing for the past few weeks. It's just the same thing over and over again. It almost feels like what I did back at home. Just the same routine over and over again, everyday, all year, maybe even for the rest of my life.

It feels like that but with more of a rush I guess. I feel more alive then before. I feel like I'm an actual person for once, not like I'm just another person who's mind has been taken over by... I don't know.

James pulls me out of my thoughts as he shoves me a bit. It's harder then he usually does. I look of from the spot on the old green diner table I've been staring at for the past while. The first thing I see is a woman with a gun in her hand. She doesn't look like a police officer or anything. She just looks like a regular person or something.

The next thing I know, the sound of gunshots fill the air and ring inside my ears. I can feel the loud sound bounce around in my skull and rattle my brain.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. I don't know why. The noise shouldn't hurt this much. I look down at my stomach. Fuck. I've been shot. I've actually been shot.

Blood pours from the wound in my stomach. It isn't really in the middle, it's more off to the right. But it's still bad. I clutch the deep lesion in my stomach. Dark crimson blood is seeping through the cracks in my hands. The blood is warm and sticky.

I lift my hands off my stomach, and torrents of the thick crimson liquid gush out of the wound in my abdomen. Black spots flash in the corners of my eyes, and I raise my hands to my head. My fingers are coated in warm blood, it smears all over my face. The blood didn't stop pouring out of the bullet wound in my stomach.

As this happens, someone is calling 911, and the few people who are in the diner are screaming. Some are crying. Most of them are running out of the building. I'm sure I'm going to die. I couldn't possibly survive this much blood loss. I haven't even checked to see if James is okay this whole time. Hot tears stream down my face like a waterfall, I don't want to cry. I don't want to look weak. My mum used to hit me if I wasn't strong, if I cried, if I did anything that a normal teenager should do.

My brain feels all fuzzy and I feel like world is spinning and it won't stop. I feel like it won't stop like, ever. Everything gets blurry and I the screams and yells and calls of concern of nearby people all mash into one noise. I've never felt something like this in my entire life. I can't even feel the pain anymore.

And then I black out.

🕯