BMC One Shots and Shorts

Dark Nights and Sharp Knives

{TW: blood, uuuhh knives, threatened murder, threatened suicide, ummm that's it???} (pls tell me if there's more)
Expensive Headphones
Michael's POV
Post SQUIP

I put my car in park and take the keys out of the ignition. I get out of the car after checking that no other cars are coming. This was probably unnecessary because it's half past midnight, why would anyone be out right now? I hear the sounds of someone grumbling to themselves. I look around and see the small frame of...

"Rich? What are you doing here?" My voice must have startled him as he quickly hides something behind his back.

"Am I not allowed to surprise my boyfriend when he comes home?"

"Not in the middle of the night and not when you live ten minutes away."

"That's why it's a surprise!" He exclaims with pathetic enthusiasm. I shake my head at him.

"What is that?" I point to the arm he has no-so-discreetly hidden. He goes to deny having anything, but I give him a look to just tell me.

"A knife," he says, bring it out from behind is back, waving it in the air. A faint beam of light hits the metal just so I can see a deep red substance on it. Is that blood? That's unsettling.

"And please do tell: Why are you walking around the streets at midnight with a bloody knife?"

"For... cooking purposes?" He says it as more of a question. Despite the dim lighting, I can see his grip tighten around the handle of the knife, knuckles turning white in the process.

"Tell me what happened." I'm trying to keep my voice calm, but I can't predict what Rich could do with that knife. His eyes stare directly into mine and his body relaxes, his grip on the knife loosens, but he doesn't let go.

"What the fuck do you think happened?" His voice is sharp, much like the object in his hand.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking." He doesn't respond to me. Instead, he lifts his arm, bringing the knife into his view. "I want to help you, but I can't unless you tell me what you did."

"You wanna know what happened?" He points the knife at me. Good thing there's distance between us. I keep my composure and nod in response to his question. "You want to help me?" I nod again. "Why?"

I don't hesitate with my answer. "Because you're my boyfriend and I care about you." I feel Rich staring into my soul, trying to look for any sign of a lie, but he won't find one. After a few seconds he starts laughing.

"You care about me. That's a good one. Because, according to my dad, I'm incapable of love." His laughter is almost maniacal. "I'm a worthless piece of trash who doesn't deserve anything good in life. Hell, I don't deserve to have a life."

"Rich, you know that isn't true."

"Do I, Michael? Do I really? Isn't a child supposed to look up to his father, and, and listen to him, believe what he says, and follow his direction?" Rich starts using wide gestures as he talks. I keep my eyes focused on his face and trying my best to not glance at the weapon he's grasping. "I'll tell you what happened." Oh great, it's pointed at me again.

"I'm listening," I say in the most sincere voice possible while shaking from fear on the inside.

"I was in my room and out of nowhere he starts pounding on my door, screaming that I better let him in or else he's gonna kill me." Rich acts out the scene but making a knocking motion. Unfortunately he does this with his right hand, the hand with the knife. "I don't think he's serious, I mean, what kind a fuck-up father would murder his own son? Apparently my fucked up father would. He kicked down my whole fucking door. I was like 'what the hell!?' And then he grabbed me off my bed and shoved me into the wall, pressing the knife against my throat.

"He wasn't pressing it hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to prove that he could've whenever he wanted to. He started screaming things in my face, blaming me for shit I didn't do. I waited for the perfect moment before I seized control of the knife and got him in the leg. I wanted to run after that but I remembered from some crime show that pulling the knife out of a stab wound makes it worse. So I made sure to take it with me when I left. I ran out of the house so fast, I didn't even put shoes on." He stops, looking down at his feet. He is, in fact, not wearing shoes. When he looks up again, his eyes are full of tears and he brings the knife up to his throat.

"Woah, Rich. What are you doing?" My mind is telling me to lunge forward and grab the knife from him but my feet won't move.

"Maybe he's right. Maybe I shouldn't even be alive. I don't deserve it." His hand is shaking, he doesn't want to do this. The combination of the moonlight and street lamps above make it just light enough for me to see streaks of tears running down his face.

"You don't have to do this." I say calmingly. I reach my hand out slowly as to not startle him. "Give me the knife and we can talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?" He lifts his chin up and his hand twitches from how tight he's holding on to the knife. "I'm a screw up. I stabbed my own father for fucks sake."

"Rich if you kill yourself then he wins. Is that what you what?"

"N-no," he says weakly, hand faltering. "B-but he'll win anyway when I go to prison."

"You're not going anywhere." My feet finally find the courage to step forward, slowly closing the gap between us. "You acted in self defense. You did what had to be done. Do the right thing now and drop the knife. If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for me. Prove your father wrong and show that you are capable of love."

I'm standing about a 18 inches away from him. Half a meter. He looks up at me, never ending streams of tears flowing down his face. Next thing I know I hear a clink and Rich wraps his arms around me, sobbing into my chest. My breath hitches until I realize that Rich has dropped the knife and it takes me a few seconds to react and hug him back. I bring a hand up to the back of his head and run my fingers through the short hair.

"I need help," he whispers, I almost don't hear him.

"We'll get you help. And I'll be there every step of the way, I promise you that."

{1160 words}