The Ballad of Heather Chandler (HEATHERS THE MUSICAL)

Chapter 11

"I can hear your footsteps, ya know." JD caught Heather cold in her tracks. She was attempting to sneak up on him, but obviously, it didn't work out well. 

"What are you doing," Heather inquired, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Can't you tell?" He turned his head away from the stove to look her in the eyes. He raised the pan and shook up the eggs a bit. "Breakfast." He turned back around. 

Heather's response was to cross her arms and lean on the stairway pillar. 

"So..." she led. "Are...you going to tell me what was in that letter?"

JD chuckled before coldly saying, "No." 

"I'm sorry what,"

"No,"

"I thought we were on good terms JD, wha-"

"Didn't you hear me," He turned off the stove. "No, I won't tell you and that's final," 

Still in shock and surprise, Heather clenched her jaw fixed her eyes onto a loose light bulb in the ceiling.

JD took a spoon and poured the bell-pepper-cheese-eggs onto two plates before leaving the pan on the stove again. Heather took note as he rubbed his maroon stained hands against each-other before returning the gaze to Heather.

"Eggs are done, I'll be back to do the dishes in around..." He looked down at the watch on his left wrist. "I dunno when," He swung a brown trenchcoat off of the coatrack as opposed to the black one.

Heather didn't want to ask where he was going, as that would provoke another snappy comment from him. Instead, she ate a spoonful of the eggs; (while discovering that he's an amazing cook,) and moves toward the junk cabinet.

JD's torn up converse are brutally harming his feet with blisters, which is the least of his worries. He fought with Heather, has to go take acre of something he never thought he'd do, and other things... 

The car door's locked. Great. He drags himself back to the front door, noticing a weird smell coming from a window. 

Alas, upon opening the door, his vision goes black, 

and he's no longer conscious.